Ordered Chaos
by Athena Alexandria
Summary: AU. As a premed at Columbia, Jack has his life figured out, until he meets Kate, a teenage runaway with a troubled past. Suddenly his world is turned upside down as he tries to help her, but will she help him? Or lead him into trouble?
1. Chapter 1

Since I am chronically incapable of relaxation, I've begun a new fic. It's my first attempt at an AU young-Jate story – I was going to write something set on the island, based on my thoughts about how the rest of the season will play out, but I respect the writers too much to mess with the canon, and besides, I think everyone's sick of Juliet…

I'm putting up the first two chapters to get it started. Don't forget to let me know what you think. I'm actually pretty excited about it (well I alternate between excitment and sheer unadulterated hatred, but I was like that with all five of my previous fics) – I've got some pretty interesting (hopefully) stuff planned… I've never been to New York, or the US, so I apologise if you have and the details are a little off...

By the way, I know it's the holidays, so a lot of you guys are probably busy, but if you haven't reviewed my last story, could you please, please do so? I'd like to think that more than four people have opinions on how it turned out...

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Chapter 1. Order

As a pre-med, Jack Shephard's life was all about order.

He woke up at exactly five on week mornings, so that he could go over his notes before breakfast, heading down to the dining hall at seven with his best friend and dorm mate, Marc. From eight to six, he attended classes; from six to seven he caught up with his friend over dinner, then went back to his dorm to study until he fell asleep, exhausted.

Occasionally, if he was on top of his workload, he would allow Marc to drag him to a party at one of Columbia's frat houses, but that was as far out of his routine as he ever broke. He didn't have a girlfriend, didn't date; he never went anywhere to meet girls, and even if he did, he just didn't have time.

It didn't exactly make for a thrilling life, but it was the only way he knew how to cope with the rigorous demands of becoming a doctor, like his father, and his father before him.

That was why he was surprised to find himself in Hell's Kitchen, instead of anatomy class, at eight o'clock on a Thursday morning.

Marc had spent the night at some girl's place as usual, calling as Jack was heading down to breakfast to ask if he could borrow some money for the subway. Jack's conscience wouldn't allow him to leave his friend stranded, broke, in a strange neighbourhood, no matter how inconvenient it was, so bypassing the dining hall, he agreed to meet him at the diner across the street.

It took him almost an hour to get there, but despite having such a lengthy head start, Marc wasn't there when he arrived, so he took a booth by the window, flipping idly through the menu while he waited for his friend to show up. Jack had no doubt that he would eventually, he always did, but like most of his former classmates, Marc had regressed in consideration since they'd started college. He was so wrapped up in himself these days that Jack figured he probably didn't even realise how much he was putting him out.

Glancing out the window, scanning the busy New York street, he was pulled from his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice; he looked up to see a girl, maybe a year or two younger than he was, standing over him, watching him impatiently.

Disoriented, he stared back, noting the way her dark curls fell into her eyes, giving her a slightly wild appearance, worlds apart from the preppy girls at Columbia. "Sorry?"

The girl dropped her tight, forced smile, giving him a disgruntled look. "I said, 'Is there anything I can get you?'" She held up her pad so that Jack could see it, making a show of readying her pen. "I have about eight other tables, so you'll excuse me if I don't have time to give you the royal treatment you're probably used to."

"Do I know you?" he asked, thrown by her coldness. He was pretty sure he'd never seen her before in his life, and yet she was acting as if, with one word, he'd somehow managed to insult her.

He could see her sizing him up, taking in his clothes, his watch, his clean-shaven face, and neatly cut hair. "How could you? You obviously don't live around here. Cornell, right? Or Columbia? One of the Ivy League schools?" she said, more as a statement of fact than a question.

"Columbia," he agreed, taken aback by how accurate her guess was. He didn't look that out of place in this neighbourhood, did he?

She screwed up her face in disgust at his answer, her voice disdainful. "I won't keep you then. What do you want?"

Confused by this strange reversal of what their roles should have been, Jack scratched around for an answer. Until that point, he'd been building an appetite, but looking over the menu again, he found that it had vanished.

"Uh, just coffee," he told her finally, afraid to say anything else at the risk of incurring her wrath, watching her walk away towards the counter. Already the conversation seemed surreal; he couldn't wait for Marc to get there so that they could go back to school, where the girls left him alone for the most part.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost eight thirty; even if Marc had shown up right then, it would be at least ten before they were back on campus. He hadn't missed a lecture yet; he would have to find someone who'd taken detailed notes, otherwise he'd have to fill in the blanks himself at the library, which was an extra few hours of study he didn't need. He was drowning as it was.

Checking the street again, seeing no sign of his friend, he began to drum his fingers impatiently on the tabletop, dropping his hand into his lap when he saw the waitress returning. He didn't want her to take the action personally, like he knew she would; she obviously had a chip on her shoulder about something. All he could think was that she hated him because he was at college, while she was stuck in a diner in Hell's Kitchen, working for minimum wage, which really wasn't his fault.

Stopping by his table, she set the mug down carefully in front of him, all traces of her attitude gone as she offered him a placating smile. "Here's your coffee."

Looking back at the kitchen, she lowered her voice, her eyes pleading as she added, "I'm sorry if I was a little rude before, I just… I'm just having a bad day." She let out a bitter laugh. "A bad month, actually. Don't tell anyone, okay? I need this job."

Her fear of what he might do was so genuine that Jack felt a wave of involuntary sympathy. His parents had always covered his expenses, including his tuition; he couldn't imagine what it was like to work such a menial job. "Okay," he agreed, his eyes going to the nametag on the front of her dress, "Leah."

She glanced down at her badge, as if unsure where he'd gotten the name from, a shy smile creeping over her face when she looked up at him again. "Thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Chaos

Kate Austen didn't know what had gotten into her.

Every time she felt like she was beginning to get her life under control, she went and did something to jeopardize her hard work. A month ago, it was running away from her home in Iowa, a few weeks short of graduation. Today, it was abusing the customers.

It was true what she'd said: she needed this job. Her savings had barely been enough to cover the plane ticket to New York; at last count, she'd had twenty-six dollars in the bank, and that was before she'd bought groceries. It was probably closer to zero now, at least until she got her next paycheck. As it was, she was trying to work up the courage to ask for an advance.

If she had lost her job, there was a slight chance that she could talk someone else into hiring her, but not before her landlord came knocking on the door tomorrow evening; employment wasn't easy to come by when you were a high school drop out with no references or marketable skills.

She was lucky that that preppy kid wasn't holding a grudge; he seemed a lot less spoilt than the ones who would come in drunk on Friday and Saturday nights, looking for entertainment at her expense. She was tired of listening to their slurs as she ran back and forth between their tables and the kitchen, tired of the girls' whispers, tired of the boys treating her like they thought she'd go home with them just because their fathers made $100, 000 plus a year. She might be broke, but she wasn't a whore. She wasn't going to stoop to that level on the off chance that it might make her life easier.

There was something about this guy that made her think he wasn't like that, though, that he didn't have the same overblown sense of his own importance. He didn't seem that interested in her, for a start; at first she'd thought he was ignoring her, but now, she was beginning to wonder if he was really that malicious. He could have gotten her into trouble, and he hadn't. He'd actually smiled at her. It was the first act of unadulterated kindness she'd experienced since leaving Iowa; it actually made her feel a little home sick. It wasn't easy, coming to the city from such a small town, even if it was the only way she knew to escape what had happened to her.

As she carried an order to the table next to his, she watched him check his watch, glancing out the window at regular intervals. He was so different to their regular Thursday morning clientele, with his carefully cropped dark hair, and catalogue bought clothes, so out of place in the cracked PVC booth, that she couldn't help wondering who he was meeting. He didn't look like he'd ever been to this part of the city before; she figured he was probably doing some sort of charity work to pad out his resume, maybe one of those big brother programs or something. There was also a legal aid office, and a free medical clinic, on that block; maybe he was just on work experience.

She didn't have to wait long to find out; the door swung open a few minutes later, and a redheaded guy slid into the booth across from him. They had some sort of argument, which the dark-haired guy seemed to lose, or at least forfeit, before the redhead picked up the menu.

Once she'd finished taking an order to the table in the corner, she headed over to them, feeling her heart flutter pathetically when the dark-haired guy offered her another smile. In site of her best efforts, she couldn't help feeling attracted to him, especially after he'd been so nice to her without cause, but it didn't matter, because after today, it was unlikely that she'd ever see him again. He didn't belong here; once he'd finished doing whatever he was doing with his friend, he would go back to Columbia, and that would be that.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked him when she'd finished scribbling down his friend's rather long, disgusting, order of pretty much everything on the breakfast menu, feeling suddenly shy. It had been so long since a guy had looked at her like that, like a human being, a worthwhile one, instead of a piece of meat, or something he'd just scraped off his shoe. It didn't seem to matter to him that she was a diner waitress; unlike a lot of her customers, he seemed to understand that it was just a job, a way to pay the bills, not part of who she was.

Still, even if she had the rest of her life under control, she would never have considered asking him out, no matter how sweet, or good-looking he was. There was a line, and they were definitely on opposite sides.

"It all looks pretty bad," he confessed, skimming over the menu. "What would you suggest?"

If he were any other guy, Kate would have thought he was hitting on her, but she could tell that he was serious; he really was asking for her opinion. "Toast," she told him, returning his smile. "It's about the only thing I can guarantee won't kill you."

She felt another strange little flutter as he laughed at her joke. "Good to know. I think I'll just stick with coffee," he said, handing the menu back to her.

In spite of her better judgment, she kept finding reasons to go back over to his table, so that she could see that smile again. While she knew that she could never allow things between them to go beyond casual flirting, but it had been a while since she'd connected with someone like this, even on such a superficial level. It was nice to know that she wasn't a leper, that there were still some decent guys in the world who would give her the time of day.

She was actually disappointed when, about an hour after he'd arrived, he set down his cup, and stood up, his friend following suit. "I can't interest you in another cup of coffee?" she asked, coming over to clear the dishes away.

The dark-haired guy shook his head with a grin. "No, I have to get to class, and I'm already starting to tweak out as it is. Anymore, and I'll be bouncing off the walls." He took out his wallet, giving her an expectant look. "How much do we owe you?"

Kate made a quick decision. "Forget it," she said, pushing his hand away when he went to offer her some money. After everything he'd done for her that morning, protecting her from the wrath of her boss, and making her feel marginally human again, she figured it was the least she could do. "Consider it a peace offering. Thanks again for not ratting on me, even if I deserved it."

She saw his friend give them a curious look, but she shook it off. It didn't mean anything; all she was doing was returning his kindness.

"Thanks," he said, surprised, but he didn't put his money away; instead, he held a fifty dollar bill out to her. "It's a tip, so you have to take it," he explained, flashing her a slightly self-conscious smile.

She wanted to argue that it was a pretty exorbitant tip, twice the cost of his bill, but with her rent due in little more than twenty four hours, and barely enough money to feed herself, she couldn't afford to turn down his charity, no matter how humiliating it was. "Thank you," she told him softly, tucking it into the pocket of her apron, wondering again why this handsome stranger was being so nice to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Hallelujah! I've had these two chapters written since Wednesday, but the document manager wouldn't let me load them. It seems to be working okay now though, so I should be able to start updating regularly again. I'm so glad -- I hate looking slack!

Thanks for your reviews – I was going through one of those periods of hating this fic, and wishing I'd never started it, so I was glad to hear that you all thought it was worth continuing.

One last thing. I'm up to 199 reviews for The Promise – I would really, really, really love 200. So please, just a few words – I hate begging, it's demeaning to all of us…

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Chapter 3. Uptight 

"Are you feeling okay, man?" Marc asked, feigning amazement, as he and Jack walked to the subway station down the street.

"What?" Jack's thoughts were still inside the diner, on his encounter with the curly-haired waitress; Leah, her badge told him her name was, but had he just imagined the strange look she'd given him when he used it?

"You were flirting with that waitress – badly," Marc continued, seeming to have forgotten their earlier argument, and the fact that Jack was still supposed to be mad at him, for showing up late, and making him later. "I think the last time I saw you flirt with anyone was in the tenth grade. I wasn't even sure you still knew how."

Coming out of his reverie, Jack's head snapped up as he gave his friend a hard look. "What are we, twelve? I was not flirting. I was being polite."

"You smiled at her. You laughed at her jokes. You asked her what you should order. That, my friend, is what passes for flirting these days," Marc told him, an impish grin lighting up his face as he added, "Well, actually, it's what passed for flirting in the nineteen fifties, but still, you get the idea."

Jack sighed, realising that this was another argument he was going to lose. There was no use denying it, not when he knew that Marc was right: the fact that he was talking to a beautiful girl hadn't escaped his notice, no matter how noble he tried to be. "Okay, so maybe I was flirting with her," he admitted, "but what does it matter? We live on opposite sides of Manhattan – it's not like I'm ever going to see her again." It was the same thought that had been circling his head since they left the diner.

He was trying to be earnest, but Marc scoffed at him, raising a sceptical eyebrow. "Uh, sure, man, 'cause you'd be the first guy ever to stray out of his neighbourhood to talk to some chick. I once went all the way to Long Island with the sole intention of pretending to run into this girl I met at a club." He grinned at the memory. "You should have seen her, man – she was seriously hot. She had a boyfriend though, so that's a morning I'm never going to get back."

Shaking his head at how one-tracked his friend's mind had become since they'd hit puberty, Jack considered what it was he was telling him to do. If he wasn't mistaken, Marc thought he should come all the way back to Hell's Kitchen just to hang around the diner, but what if that freaked her out? What if she thought he was stalking her? What if it turned out the same as Marc's disastrous experience with the Long Island girl? What if she had a boyfriend? He really didn't know enough about her to think that she'd be interested in him. She was a waitress; by talking to him, she was just doing her job.

"Would you get off this tangent?" he asked, deciding that his best course of action was to dismiss the idea. There was a reason he didn't do this sort of thing; he didn't have time, for a start. At this rate, he was going to have to spend the entire weekend at the library, or holed up in his dorm, just to be ready for classes on Monday. "I wouldn't have talked to her in the first place if you'd shown up when you were supposed to."

It was the subject they really should be discussing, but Marc ignored his lead in, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "You like her – admit it."

"I don't even know her," Jack reminded him.

"But you want to."

"No, I don't. I want to get to class, before I flunk out."

Marc gave him an incredulous look. "Then what was the fifty dollar tip about? If you were any other guy, I'd assume you were trying to get into her pants."

Jack sighed again, exasperated. Why did everything have to be about sex with Marc? Why couldn't he talk to a girl without wanting to sleep with her? "I wasn't trying to do anything," he said, suddenly defensive of what he had only ever intended as a gesture of goodwill, afraid that she'd drawn the same conclusion, that he expected some sort of favour in return. "She's going through a rough time at the moment – I was just being nice. You should try it some time."

Marc frowned, giving him a wounded look. "Ouch, man, that stings."

Seeing that his friend was genuinely hurt by his comment, Jack softened a little towards him. He didn't mean to selfish, he just was at times. "I just don't see why, when I was doing you a favour, you couldn't've been where you were supposed to," he told him, not for the first time that morning.

Marc began to repeat his story about, Rebecca, the girl he'd spent the night with, and how she'd forgotten her cell, but Jack cut him off before he had to hear all the gory details again. "You made me miss an entire morning's classes," he pointed out, wanting Marc to understand why he was so annoyed at being stood up. He didn't have to come here; he was beginning to wish he hadn't. "It's going to take me all weekend to catch up, and that's not even counting the papers I was supposed to be working on."

He was probing for an apology, but Marc flared up instead, rounding on him, his eyes flashing. "You weren't exactly in a hurry to leave after that first cup of coffee, so don't put that all on me. Have you stopped to think that maybe you stayed because you wanted to? That maybe you don't want to be such an uptight ass all the time? "We've been here forever, and how many girls have you spoken too, much less asked out? I don't think I have to tell you that you'd be a lot happier if you got laid once in a while. Ever, actually."

For the rest of the day, while he should have been studying, Jack thought about what Marc had said. It was true, he could be a little pedantic at times, especially when it came to his coursework, but he wasn't uptight, was he?

Whether or not this description was accurate, he realised his friend was right about one thing: he wasn't happy, not when he was missing out on all of the things most people his age got to do, that he didn't. For once, he would have liked to go to a club or a party without feeling guilty, to talk to a girl without thinking about the paper he had to write when he got home. He didn't want to be so obsessive; he wanted to enjoy his life, the way Marc did. Marc never seemed that worried about flunking out, and he was lucky to go to class once a fortnight.

It would have been easier to convince himself that it was all worth it if it was his dream that he was chasing, but his father had picked his course, just like he'd picked the profession it would eventually lead to. That was probably why he needed to have control over every aspect of his life: because ultimately, he had none.

But this, this was a decision he could make on his own, without Christian Shephard's input. This was a part of his life his father had no say in.

Instead of going to the library like he usually would on a Friday night, when Jack finished classes the following day, he gathered his books and headed for the subway. After another day of careful deliberation, he'd decided that rather than having to choose between staying on top of his coursework, and having a life, there was no reason he couldn't kill two birds with one stone: he could study while he hung out at the diner without getting too distracted. At least, he thought he could.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4. A White Knight in Hell's Kitchen

Kate was so sure that she was never going to see the dark-haired guy again that she was surprised when, less than thirty-six hours after he'd walked out of her life, he walked into the diner again.

It was Friday night, and she was already anticipating the return of the obnoxious Ivy Leaguers, so she was glad to see a friendly face, even if his sudden reappearance made her a little nervous. What was he playing at? Did he have a reason for being in this neighbourhood again, like she'd decided he must the day before, or had he actually come all the way back to Hell's Kitchen for her?

Almost dropping the last of the plates onto the table she was serving, she wiped her hands on her apron and headed over to him, trying not to appear to interested, in him, or what he was doing there. She was just doing her job, after all. "Hi."

He looked up from the books he was spreading over the table, offering her one of his lop-sided grins. "Hi."

She felt her own lips curve into a smile as she said, "Back again?" hoping that this would lead to some kind of explanation.

If he sensed the seriousness behind her question, he didn't let on. "You have great coffee," he deadpanned, giving her an innocent, mock-earnest look.

Kate laughed, raising a sceptical eyebrow. "There's a Starbucks down the street, and since this is New York, I'm pretty sure there's at least a dozen more between here and Columbia."

"You're right," he allowed, flashing her another one of his adorable grins, "that would be more convenient, but the service is terrible."

He was playing with her now; Kate flushed, staring down at the linoleum floor, before composing herself enough to ask, "And you think it's better here?"

He shrugged, but his dark eyes were twinkling with merriment. She was pretty sure that if he hadn't been flirting with her yesterday, he definitely was today. "I'm still deciding."

"Well, how about I get you some coffee while you decide?" she suggested, trying not to blush again, like she knew he wanted her to. She liked him, yes, but she didn't want him to know that, or that he was having an effect on her, him and his smile.

"Sounds good," he agreed, going back to his books while she went to make it for him, ignoring the man she could see trying to flag her down out of the corner of her eye.

She knew she shouldn't be neglecting her other customers, but talking to this guy seemed to lessen the loneliness she felt every time she walked home alone, every time she entered her empty apartment, every time she went through an entire day without talking to anyone about anything except burgers and coffee. While she wasn't sure she was ready to step into a relationship, or even date, at the very least, she thought they could be friends. It would be nice, having someone in the city, someone she could turn to if she ever needed it.

"How's that for service?" she quipped as she slid his coffee onto the table in front of him, careful not to spill it on the notebook he was writing in.

He didn't say anything as he continued to scribble in his scratchy male hand, but he laughed, a distracted grin turning up the corners of his mouth.

Seeing that she'd lost his attention, Kate moved around to his side, leaning over him so that she could look over his shoulder. "What're you writing?" she asked, hoping to draw him into a conversation about whatever it was he was working on.

"Just notes," he explained, without looking up, closing his textbook with one hand so that she could see the cover.

"Med student, huh?" she asked, impressed. Science had never been her strongest subject, but she hadn't been half bad at it when she was still in school. She'd actually managed to scrape an 'A' in it, and most of her other classes, before she left, for all the good it was going to do her now. The last thing she'd read was the manual for the coffee maker, and that wasn't exactly going to get her into Harvard, like she'd once fantasised about.

"Pre-med," he corrected her, looking embarrassed. "But yeah, eventually. My dad's a surgeon, so it kind of runs in the family."

Before she knew what she was doing, she had perched on the corner of the booth across from him, eager to hear all about his life Columbia. She missed school, the stimulation, the hope that she could be something more than her parents, that she could do something that would give her life meaning. As it was, he wasn't the only one entering the family profession. He came from a proud line of doctors; she came from a not so proud tradition of waitressing to make ends meet.

"What classes are you taking?" she asked, forgetting all about the guy in the corner in her enthusiasm. "Are they all science-based, or do you have to do some core ones too?"

Lowering his pen, he opened his mouth to answer, but the guy in the corner cut him off, banging his first on the table.

"Hey! Yes, you," he added when Kate looked up at him, remembering where she was, and what she was there for. "You can talk to your boyfriend later, or am I gonna have to go somewhere else to get fed? This is a diner, isn't it? Or did I read the sign wrong?"

Flashing the dark-haired guy an apologetic look, she climbed dutifully to her feet, surprised when he got up too. "You could be a little nicer, you know," he called to the man in the corner, not seeming to care that he was a stranger, and that he was in one of the roughest neighbourhoods in the city. "Just because this is a diner, doesn't mean you have to right to treat the staff like slaves."

He looked like he wanted to say something less tactful, but Kate took hold of his arm, forcing him back into his seat. "What are you doing?" she whispered, casting a glance over at the man in corner, relieved to see that his wife was doing the same thing. "Remember what I said about needing this job?" He nodded. "Well, that hasn't changed. What do you think is going to happen if you start a fistfight with one of my customers?"

She expected him to apologise, but he gave her an indignant look. "He shouldn't be talking to you like that."

Kate sighed, softening a little at having found her own white knight, right here in the middle of the hell her life had turned into. "Probably not," she agreed, "but as long as he's spending money here, he can do whatever he wants."

Meeting his eyes as she turned to go, seeing the genuine concern for her there, she smiled, adding, "I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record, but thanks. It was sweet of you to jump in like that. Stupid, but sweet."


	5. Chapter 5

Goddamnit! Now the alerts are down again...

I know what you mean melon872 (Damn Juliet!), only we've only just gotten "Not in Portland" here, so we've still got a lot of Jateless episodes to go! There are a couple of good scenes coming up though, like the one in "The Man From Tallahassee"...

Thanks for your reviews. I'm glad you're all still enjoying it, and that you didn't lose interest while I was being thwarted in my attempts to update! (Does anyone else think that's a great word? Thwarted?)

As for Kate not being too damaged, she may just be putting on a brave face. She did run away right before graduation, remember? Which you can bet has something to do with our old friend Wayne...

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Chapter 5. Why Are You Doing This?

With almost two days of classes to catch up on, Jack was only going to stay at the diner long enough to eat, and, if he could work up the courage, line up a date for some time in the near future, but every time he went to leave, it was as if some invisible force was holding him in his seat. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it was time to go back to the dorm, and his life, his body didn't seem to want to obey his commands. Instead, he found himself staring distractedly at his notes as he waited for a few words, a smile, anything that proved that she wasn't immune to his presence.

He didn't want to admit that he cared that much, even to himself, but he found himself feeling disappointed when, after the man in the corner complained, she started paying less attention to him, only stopping by his table as often as she did any of the others. He couldn't keep drinking coffee after coffee, not if he wanted to sleep that night, so he tried ordering things he didn't really want so that she would have to come over, but it wasn't long before she realised that he hadn't touched any of the plates, and stopped bringing food to him.

Though he kept trying to find an opening, it wasn't until he'd been there for almost two hours that he was able to pin her down long enough to strike up another conversation, when her supervisor finally released her for her break. Seeing how unsure she looked about joining him, hovering in the middle of the diner, he beckoned her over, shifting some of his books to make room.

"So you never finished telling me about Columbia," she said as she slid into the booth across from him with a grateful smile, setting a cup of coffee down on the table in front of her.

"You're not going to eat?" he asked, too distracted by the absence of anything more substantial to answer, wondering if she made a habit of skipping meals while she was at work. Already, she had the pinched look of someone who'd lost a lot of weight in a very short amount of time, which wasn't all that surprising given the financial troubles she'd hinted at.

Studying her freckled features more closely now she was sitting in front of him, Jack decided that she couldn't have been more than eighteen; too young to be left completely alone in the world. Though he was too afraid of offending her again to ask her about her background, he found himself wondering about her: where her parents were, and why she couldn't ask them for help, why she wasn't in school, why she didn't have the same accent as most of the native New Yorkers he'd met. As an outsider himself, he could tell that she wasn't really from Hell's Kitchen; if anything, she seemed more overwhelmed at being in New York than he was.

She shook her head, bringing his attention back to the moment. "I'm not hungry," she told him, but he could tell by the way she stared at her cup, avoiding his eyes, that she was lying. She was hungry, she was just broke, and too proud to accept anything else from him. "When you spend all day around food, you start to lose your appetite."

"Well, I'm not that hungry either, so you're going to have to help me with some of this," he said, pushing one of his untouched plates towards her. He wasn't going to eat it; he didn't even particularly like half the stuff he'd ordered, as greasy and inedible as it was, so he figured she might as well have it if she wouldn't let him buy dinner for her.

She looked at him hesitantly, then down at the plate, her expression closing off as she slid it back across the table, refusing his charity.

Pretending not to understand what she was trying to tell him, Jack shoved a second plate towards her, as if he thought she might prefer something else instead.

She gave him a hard look, annoyed that he was pushing the point, but when she went to repeat her previous gesture, he stopped her, putting his hand out to halt the plate's progress. "If you don't want it, I'm just going to throw it out," he told her firmly, settling back into his seat with a smug grin when she drew it back towards her.

She didn't start eating right away though, lifting her eyes from the plate to give him a wary look. "Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly, her voice sad, as if she didn't believe anyone was capable of being so benevolent without a reason. "I don't know you – I don't even know your name – and yet this is the fourth time in two days you've gone out of your way to help me."

Jack was silent for a moment, starting down at the tabletop; it was the question he'd been dreading since he'd pushed the money into her hand the day before. He didn't want her to think he had an ulterior motive for helping her, like Marc had suggested, even if it wasn't far from the truth.

"Maybe because I like you," he told her when he felt brave enough to look her in the eyes again, relieved when he saw the faintest hint of a smile cross her lips. She liked him too. He grinned. "And I'm Jack, by the way."

* * *

Phew! I'm glad I don't have to call him "the preppy kid" or "the dark haired guy" anymore. Now if he could just learn her real name... 


	6. Chapter 6

Glad you're all still liking the story, and Jack. If I was Kate, I'd go out with him... ;)

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Chapter 6. Not Like Most Guys

So her white knight had a name, Kate mused, returning to work a while later.

Jack.

She decided she liked it; it was simple and masculine, the kind of name she thought a hero should possess. Not that he'd really saved her from anything, but he was trying. He seemed to want so badly to make a difference in her life that she didn't have the heart to tell him that he was already too late, that all he could do now was help her pick up the pieces.

While he'd admitted to liking her, though whether this was in a romantic or platonic sense she wasn't sure, she kept expecting him to lose interest now that she couldn't offer him the same attention that she had earlier in the evening. She was so sure he was going to pack up and go home that it came as a surprise to her when he continued to sit there long after he'd eaten, watching her run orders to the other tables. He'd given up on studying after she left, closing his books and pushing them off to one side, flashing her a lop-sided grin whenever she allowed him to catch her eye.

It was too cute; as reluctant as she was to get involved with him, or anyone else, at that point in her life, she found herself wishing that he really would ask her out, like she'd been convinced that he would since he walked back into the diner. She liked being around him, even if they never talked about anything much; it made her feel happy and safe, and neither of those were feelings she'd had much experience with of late.

That was why when he offered to walk her home after closing, she didn't argue, relishing the idea of spending time with him outside the diner, where she was always distracted, always afraid getting caught socialising on the job.

The manager was still around, so Jack waited patiently at the door while Kate finished up, wiping the tables and packing the dishwasher before she was free go. With her rent money due, and no way of paying it, she'd been in such a hurry to avoid her landlord that morning that she'd forgotten to bring a coat, so she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm as they started down the street.

They hadn't even made it to the end of the block before, noticing how cold she was, Jack slipped his own coat off and held it out to her. "Here, take it and don't argue," he said, giving it an impatient shake when she wouldn't accept it. "Unless you want to get sick. If you can't afford to lose your job, I'm guessing you can't afford to take time off either."

He had her there, but still, Kate was reluctant to receive any more of his charity. "What about you?" she asked, letting her hands fall to her sides defiantly, her pride forcing her to brave the cold. It scared her, how much he knew about her situation already; she wasn't sure she wanted to let him in on how bad things really were for her.

"I'm a man," he said, flashing her an ironic grin. "Men don't get cold."

"Oh really? So why are your lips turning blue?" she teased, laughing in spite of herself. She didn't want to admit it, but she was falling for him, hard, with this whole knight in shining armour routine. It felt nice to be taken care of, especially when she wasn't doing such a good job of taking care of herself.

"I'm trying to be chivalrous here, so just take the damn coat," he insisted, feigning annoyance, though he was laughing now too.

She could see that he was shivering, but she accepted it anyway, pulling it on over her uniform. "You're amazing, has anyone ever told you that?" she said after a moment. "You're like every romantic movie cliché rolled into one person."

He gave her a disgruntled look. "I'm not a cliché, I'm just old-fashioned," he said, seemingly unsure as to whether or not he should be insulted by her comment. When she smiled at him to show him that she didn't really mind, he added, "And a little rusty – I can't say I make a habit of hanging around diners, trying to talk to beautiful waitresses."

Kate felt herself flush at this description, so she looked away, staring at the sidewalk. "You really are old-fashioned, aren't you, Jack? Most guys I've met wouldn't say 'beautiful'. 'Hot', maybe, if they were feeling generous, 'pretty' even, but not 'beautiful'."

"Well, I'm not like most guys," he agreed, flashing her another adorable grin, causing her heart to melt a little more. As much as she wished she could stop, it was true, she was definitely falling for him.

"So I've noticed." She smiled back at him, part of her wishing that the moment would pass without him saying or doing anything that would force her to make a decision about him, the other part wishing that he would.

He tore his eyes away from hers, starting out towards the street, and she felt her heart sink, but then he cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. "Like I said, I'm a little rusty, so you'll have to let me know if I'm doing this wrong, but do you have plans tomorrow? Because I was thinking—"

"I have to work," she cut in, wishing she could leave it at that, but seeing the disappointment in his eyes, mirroring her own, she added, "I'm working all day, but I get off at seven, so maybe you could come by the diner again?"

"Okay, great," he agreed, his face lighting up into a grin. "I'll come by the diner at seven."

A comfortable silence fell over them as they turned into her street, climbing the steps to her building. By the dim light of the streetlamps, Kate could see the concern etched on his features as he took in the dingy façade, with its cracked windows and dilapidated front door. She didn't even need a key; one hard shove was all it took for it to creak open.  
"Well, this is it," she told him when he followed her wordlessly up the stairs, to her apartment, his expression still dubious, as if he thought the building should be marked for demolition.

"This place is a hellhole, Leah," he said finally, seriously, his earnest tone causing her to her cringe. For some reason, she hated hearing him use her fake name, especially when he sounded so concerned; she wanted him to know the truth, if not about her past, then who she really was.

"My name's not Leah," she told him, watching his eyes widen in surprise, then confusion, but before she could explain, she heard a deep male voice echoing up the stairs.

Without thinking, she unlocked the door, and dragged Jack inside, slamming it shut behind them. When he looked like he was going to protest, she clamped a hand over his mouth, waiting until the man's footsteps receded before releasing him.

"Who was that?" he asked, giving her a hard look once he'd recovered from the shock. She watched as his eyes travelled away from hers, all around the tiny apartment, taking in every detail of the sparse furnishings.

"My landlord," she told him, taking a deep breath to slow her racing heart. She was safe, for now.

"You're hiding from your landlord?" he asked laughing with relief, it seemed.

"I'm late on my rent, and I can't pay him," she explained, kicking at a loose thread in the carpet, ashamed to be dragging him even deeper into her problems.

"So why don't you just tell him that? He can't kick you out, not without notice," he said, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

She stared at it, wishing she could enjoy the contact, but she was too miserable, too embarrassed. All she wanted to do at that moment was crawl into bed, and cry until she fell asleep, but she couldn't break down, not with him still standing there, looking so sympathetic. She didn't want to have to ask him for anything else, to wonder if he really liked her, or just liked the idea of her.

"I don't know," she admitted, willing her voice to stop shaking, "maybe, but you didn't see him – he's a scary looking guy, and I still owe him from last week too. I just—I just need a couple of days, until Tuesday. I've been working fourteen hour shifts, so I should be able to pay back everything I owe him." She choked, trying and failing to keep a sob from escaping, letting him lead her over to the bed so that she could sit down.

"I can see you're too proud to accept a donation," he said gently, crouching in front of her so that their eyes were level, "or even another tip, so why don't you let me loan it to you, just until you get on your feet. After that, you can pay me back, with interest, if you want," he added with a wry grin.

"How do you know you can trust me?" she asked softly, too tired to refuse his offer outright. Having that money would make the next few days a lot easier to get through.

"Because I know where you live," he joked; she offered him a weak smile in return, wishing she had the strength to laugh like he wanted her to.

When she didn't offer anything else in the way of an argument, he pulled his chequebook out of his back pocket and started filling in the details. "I'm gonna need your name – your real name," he told her, looking abashed.

She smiled, her first real smile since they'd entered the apartment. "It's Kate, Kate Austen."

"Okay, Kate," he said, his mouth turning up in a sly grin as he wrote it down. "There's a party at one of the frat houses on Tuesday night – why don't you give it back to me then?"


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the reviews. I can't believe how many I'm getting this time around! You guys are awesome. (I also can't believe that Kate slept with Sawyer again, but from what I've heard, Jack doesn't deserve her at the moment. I can't wait until he realises he's wrong about Juliet, and Sawyer decides he doesn't want to be Kate's consolation prize anymore. I'm predicting that season 4 is going to be the season of Jate!)

I am a little worried though -- I've got some pretty angsty, unpleasant stuff planned, and you guys seem to be enjoying the fluff. I can't change my plan though, or I won't have a story, but if it helps, it will involve Jack being very sweet...

I do intend to address Jack's issues with his family, by the way, but I need to open up Kate's first. I've never written Christian before, or his relationship with Jack, so that's one of the reasons I wanted to do an AU fic.

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Chapter 7. You Didn't?! 

Letting himself into his dorm room later, Jack wasn't sure whether to be elated or apprehensive about his date the following night. He liked Kate, she was sweet and funny and far too intelligent to be serving food to people like that jerk in the corner, but there was definitely something about her that made him uneasy. She'd lied about her name, for a start, waiting two days to set him straight; if that didn't prove that she had something to hide, then he didn't know what would.

Still, he couldn't seem to help getting involved. It wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, lending money to a girl he'd just met, but she'd looked so broken when she confessed that she couldn't afford to pay her rent that he couldn't just leave her to suffer.

She was so stubborn, so determined to be independent; a part of him wanted to tell her to go home, that whatever she was running from couldn't be worth ruining her life over, but without knowing her background, he couldn't be sure that whatever it was wasn't worse. He just hoped that if things continued along the same line between them, that one day soon, she would come to trust him enough to tell him the truth. He wanted to help her, and not just by lending money, but until she decided to open up to him, there wasn't much more he could do.

Stepping into the room he shared with Marc, which he realised was probably the size of Kate's entire apartment, Jack was surprised to find his friend in his bed, alone, propped up against the headboard. "Where've you been, man?" he asked, looking relieved when he saw him. "You had me worried – I went all over campus looking for you."

Jack shrugged, not sure he wanted to go into it with his friend. Marc spent his life flitting from conquest to conquest; he would never understand why Jack was so determined to win over a girl he didn't even go to school with when there were thousands of others on campus. "I just went out for a while – I didn't even think you were going to be home tonight."

"I wasn't, but the party was lame, so I thought I'd come back and finish a couple of papers," Marc explained, gesturing to the pile of books that lay abandoned on the floor beside him. Jack wasn't even sure why he had a desk; he did most of his homework lounging in bed or in front of the TV in the common room.

"When were they due?" he asked as he stripped off his jeans and climbed into his own bed. Given Marc's level of dedication to his studies, it could have been any time between last week and last month. For all he knew, it might even have been last year; Marc had already received at least one incomplete that he knew of.

"Wednesday, I think," he said dismissively. "So where were you really?" He sat up a little straighter, watching Jack's face, more curious than concerned now.

When Jack didn't answer, he added, comprehension dawning on him, "You went to see that waitress, didn't you? I'm surprised, man – I thought you were going to let that go."

There was no sense in denying that that was where he went, so Jack sighed. "Yeah, I did," he agreed, closing his eyes as he waited for Marc's imagination to finish running wild.

Marc was silent for a moment, considering this, then, as expected, he switched on his lamp, giving Jack an incredulous look. "It's nearly two a.m., man – the diner must've closed hours ago." Jack sighed again as his friend's expression went from surprised to impressed. "You didn't?!" he asked, sounding strangely excited.

"No, I didn't," Jack answered quickly, thwarting this idea before he got too carried away with it. Given his friend's liberal views on sex, and women, he didn't know how to tell him that Kate just wasn't the kind of girl you could get into bed within forty-eight hours of meeting her. Not that was what really he wanted anyway. It would be the quickest way to kill their growing relationship, especially if things got awkward afterwards.

"But you kissed her, right?" Marc continued hopefully.

Jack shook his head. "No." He'd thought about it on the walk to her apartment, but there was never a right moment, especially after she'd broken down in front of him. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get her to trust him if he took advantage of her vulnerability like that.

"Geez, man, no wonder you're still a virgin," Marc said, flopping back onto his bed with an exasperated sigh. "At least tell me you got a date, or I'm going to have to start wondering about you…"

"Yeah, I got a date," Jack agreed, grinning in spite of his embarrassment. Why did a guy have to be gay not to want to jump every pretty girl he came into contact with? He liked Kate. She was easy to talk to; she didn't make him nervous like the girls Marc dated. It was still early days; that should be enough for now. "Two actually – I'm picking her up at the diner tomorrow night, and then she's coming with me to the party on Tuesday."

"Two dates?" Marc choked out, and for a moment, Jack felt proud, until his friend added, "You never ask a girl on a second date until you've been on the first one, man. What if she's really boring, or stupid, or you have nothing in common? Not only will you have to put up with her tomorrow night, but on Tuesday as well. And I know you, man – you'll feel obliged to be nice to her, so it's not like you'll even be able to ditch her at the party."

He was looking at him with such a mixture of disgust and pity that Jack had to laugh. "I've spent the last two days with her at the diner – I think it's safe to say that if she was really boring or stupid I would have noticed by now. And I won't have to put up with her – believe it or not, but I actually enjoy her company. "

Marc looked sceptical of this fact, but he switched off the lamp, settling back into his own bed. "Okay, man, but if by the end of Tuesday night, you're ready to jump out the window just to get some peace, don't say I didn't warn you…"

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There you go, midnight-sk8r -- I managed to get the word "thwarting" in! I know there was no Jate in this chapter, but I promise there will be in chapter 8, when Jack goes back to the diner. 


	8. Chapter 8

I'm sorry, to the end of time, I didn't mean to spoil it for you. I haven't actually seen the episode myself, but I read about it online and was not impressed.

Glad you all liked the chapter in spite of the lack of Jate. I don't know why, but I love writing Marc, which is odd, because I consider myself to be something of a feminist.

As for Claire, we'll see. I always thought she was born while Jack was away at college, so that could be a bit of a problem. But then there is a ten year gap between Jack and Kate...

And yes, the drama will ultimately bring them closer together, but not without a lot of conflict along the way.

* * *

Chapter 8. Where Should We Go? 

"So where should we go?" Jack asked Kate the following evening as he ushered her out of the diner.

After cashing his cheque on her break that morning, and paying her landlord what she owed, she was feeling much more optimistic, not just about her move to New York, but life in general.

"I don't know," she said with a grin as they started towards her apartment. She didn't really mind what they did on their date, as long as she got to spend time alone with him. "I don't have any more experience at this than you do."

He looked genuinely surprised at her words. "Wait, you didn't have a boyfriend back home? I find that hard to believe, a hot girl like you," he added, teasing her.

She laughed, remembering their conversation the previous night. While she would have preferred "beautiful" again, "hot" was almost as good coming from him.

"How do you know I'm not from around here?" she asked, setting aside the compliment as she registered the rest of his words. While she tried to make her voice sound light, neutral, she couldn't help letting a defensive note creep into it. "Home" wasn't something she wanted to talk about; no matter what else he knew about her, that was a part of her life she was determined to keep to herself.

"You don't have an accent, for a start," he continued, ignoring the sudden change in her mood. "Plus, you don't have of that "New Yorker" vibe."

"Okay, if you think you can read me so well, where am I from?" she asked, curious to know what other conclusions he'd drawn about her.

He looked over at her, studying her thoughtfully for a moment. "I could see you as a small town girl, maybe in Utah, or Colorado?" When she shook her head, he added, reaching now, "Arkansas? Missouri? Nebraska? No, wait, Minnesota, right?"

It was cheating, but she laughed at his apparent determination to list every central state until he hit on the right one. "Close. Iowa," she allowed, figuring that this small piece of information couldn't hurt.

"So I was right, it was the Midwest," he said with a triumphant grin. "I bet you lived on a farm. You probably even had a horse."

"Utah's hardly the Midwest, Jack," she reminded him, turning the conversation back on him before he could ask for anything more about her life before New York. "I never finished high school and even I can tell you that. So what about you? Where're you from? And don't say here," she added, giving him a no-nonsense look, "because I know you're not a native either. You wouldn't've picked a fight with that guy last night if you were."

"California," he supplied finally, looking embarrassed. "L.A. born and bred."

For a moment, Kate wasn't sure that she'd heard him right. "Are you sure?" She gave him what she thought must've been a sceptical look. "Because you don't seem like a coastal guy to me. I thought Californians were supposed to be bronze surfer gods."

"Only the ones who spend a lot of time at the beach," he corrected her, looking slightly miffed. "I spent most of my life there holed up libraries."

"Oh," she said, laughing, amused, mouthing the word "square" at him to get another rise. She couldn't help but find his defensiveness adorable, especially when he wasn't really annoyed.

He flashed her a wounded look, feigning offence, but his lips quivered as he tried not to smile. "Columbia doesn't exactly regard surfing skills very highly when deciding whether or not to accept you," he returned, making no attempt to deny the accuracy of this description.

Kate stopped laughing, feeling wistful again all of a sudden. How she would love to have been accepted into a school like Columbia, the way he had. If she thought she had a chance, she was pretty sure she'd spend every day in the library too.

"So you never answered my question," he said, serious too now. "No boyfriend, really?"

"Really," she agreed, glad to be moving away from the subject of college. It hurt, knowing that where she stood now, that future would always be off limits to her. "I hung out with a lot of guys, but nothing serious like what you're talking about.

"So what about you?" she added, more interested in hearing his dating history than relating her own. He was so different to the guys she'd grown up with in Iowa, so sweet and mature; it was hard to believe that he hadn't had more interest. "How come the girls at Columbia aren't beating down your door?"

"I don't know," he said, looking from her away, embarrassed. "I guess I'd have to talk to them first. I'm in class, or studying, fifteen hours a day – I just don't have time to get to know them."

"So I should feel flattered that you're taking time out to come see me?" she asked, feeling a surge of warmth at the idea that she was special, that he was willing to come all the way to Hell's Kitchen for her when he couldn't even spare a moment for any of the girls in his classes.

"Yeah, you should," he agreed with a bashful grin. "My friend Marc keeps reminding me that the last time I did that we were in the tenth grade."

"Talk about pressure – that's a lot of live up to," she told him, fighting back a blush, trying not to let him see how nervous and excited his words made her. He liked spending time with her, enough to sacrifice his study regime, when she could see that becoming a doctor meant a lot to him.

"I guess that means I'm going to have to at least kiss you at the end of the night, huh?" she added, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, hoping that he wasn't so much of a gentleman that he wouldn't agree. Maybe it was too soon; it was true, she didn't have a lot of experience with these things, but she really wanted to know what it was like to touch him, and to have him touch her, not just in pity like he had last night. Something told her that if he were to kiss her, it would be sweet and gentle, romantic, like in a movie, not brutal and rough…

Emboldened by the need to know how he really felt about her, she took a step closer to him, hoping that she wouldn't really have to wait until the end of the night.

"Well, I did come all the way out here…" he said, trailing off as his eyes locked on hers, searching for some sign that it was the right time to make his move.

When she held his gaze, waiting, he leaned in, but before his lips could meet hers, she felt a wave of dizziness go through her, causing her to stumble and lose her footing.

Unable to stop herself from pitching backwards, she waited for her head to connect with the pavement, but he caught hold of her arms, steadying her, supporting her weight until she was strong enough to stand on her own.

"Are you okay?" he asked, brow furrowing with concern, his hands still on her shoulders as he waited for her to recover.

"Yeah, just a little light-headed," she agreed, more shaken than she was willing to admit. It wasn't the first time this had happened; about an hour after she arrived at work that morning, she'd almost passed out in the kitchen.

As much as she hated to agree with him, it looked like Jack was right, she must have caught something last night. She just hoped that whatever it was, it passed quickly, before she ended up hurting herself, or having to cancel her shifts. She couldn't keep borrowing money from him, even if he seemed only too willing to lend it to her.

"It's no big deal."

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked gently, letting go of her now that the fog in her head had cleared. "And don't tell me it was last night," he added, giving her a disapproving look.

She couldn't, so she shook her head. "I don't know, a while ago, I guess." She relaxed a little, considering this. She'd already lost more weight than would be considered healthy; maybe it was finally catching up with her. While it wasn't exactly something to celebrate, it was better than a lot of the alternatives.

"Okay, I know what we're going to do now," Jack said, falling into stride with her as she started walking again, feeling more like her usual self now that the spell had passed.

"What?"

"We're going to get out of Hell's Kitchen, and I'm going to make you eat something that wasn't cooked on a grill," he told her as they turned onto her street. "And you're going to have to humour me, because technically, we're still on a date."

"Did anyone ever tell you what an old woman you are, Shephard?" she complained as she climbed the steps to her building, her legs still a little wobbly, so that she had to lean on the railing for support. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be nagging you. I am the one with the oestrogen here."

"Yeah, well, it's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it, and since I'm the doctor…" he trailed off with a triumphant grin. He'd won again, it was true, but she wasn't going to let him know that just yet.

"Future doctor," she corrected him, fixing him with a smug smile as she headed upstairs to change.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the reviews -- I know, I'm evil, the way I mess with you all, but I have a plan, I promise! Oh, and no, Tom isn't a part of Kate's past in the fic, which is why I put so much emphasis on her never having a boyfriend...

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Chapter 9. I Had Fun

By the time they caught the subway back over to Jack's side of Manhattan, it was after nine, and most of the decent restaurants were closing their kitchens for the night. It was disappointing to Jack, because he really wanted to take Kate somewhere nice for their first official date, but he couldn't help noticing how relieved she looked when she said, "Guess we're just going to have to go to a diner after all."

He knew it would be easier to give in and agree, than to keep pushing the point, but he hadn't just been trying to impress her when he promised to buy her a decent meal. Her thin frame was worrying enough on its own, but when he added in the fourteen hour shifts six or seven days a week, and the fact that she'd almost collapsed earlier, he couldn't deny that he was concerned, maybe more than he had had a right to be given that they were still relative strangers. But since this was the case, he didn't have any authority over her; he couldn't make her take care of herself, so he was determined to do whatever he could to prevent her from doing herself further harm.

"I didn't bring you all the way here just to take you to another diner," he told her, his voice firm, running a hand over his hair as he considered their options. He wasn't going to let her go home until he knew she'd eaten something more substantial than a burger and fries, or worse, coffee, which wasn't going to be easy at this time of night. "And I promised you a decent meal, so we're not getting take out either. We're just going to have to cook something," he said finally, surprising himself.

She gave him dubious look. "You cook, as well as give girls your coat? Because if you do, I think I might actually have to marry you."

He knew she was only teasing him, but still, her words made him blush. For some reason, she was exactly the kind of girl he could see himself marrying after med school: smart, sweet, and low maintenance, the kind of girl who wouldn't make him choose between her and his career. "No. I was hoping you did," he confessed, doing his best to hide his embarrassment.

"Me?" she repeated, oblivious to his thoughts, her expression turning incredulous as she burst into gales of laughter.

"You work in a diner!" he argued, blushing again when he realised that her laughter was directed, in part, at him.

"As a waitress," she reminded him, sobering up, though her eyes were still alight with amusement. "The closest I come to actual food preparation is manning the grill while someone goes to the bathroom."

"Oh," he said, discouraged at this piece of information, but not entirely disheartened.

Anything that made her laugh like that couldn't be an entirely bad idea. If nothing else, spending time with her in a kitchen was sure to be entertaining, for her more so than for him. "Well, just because we both have limited experience, doesn't mean that between us, we can't come up with something edible."

Kate considered this, grinning as she warmed to the idea. "Can you boil pasta?"

"Yeah. I mean, the directions are on the packet, right?" he added sheepishly, less sure of himself as he admitted, "I've never actually tried."

"Well, how about you put that doctor's brain to work, while I cook the beef," she suggested, her eyes twinkling as she tried not to laugh at him again. "We can make spaghetti. I think I may actually have the ingredients back at my apartment." She shrugged. "Best I can do."

"Sounds like a plan," Jack agreed, breaking into a grin, strangely excited by the idea of hanging out with her alone in her kitchen. "Actually, it sounds like an accident waiting to happen," he allowed, "but what the heck. Whatever doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right?"

She laughed. "That's assuming we get through this without burning my building down, which I have to say, isn't entirely unlikely."

"Well," he agreed as they headed back towards the subway, "on the bright side, if we do, your landlord'll have bigger things to worry about than the rent that you owe him."

While their attempt at making dinner was less chaotic than he'd feared, it was still more fun than anything Jack had done in a long time. He loved teasing Kate, and having her tease him back, and finding new ways to make her laugh, and to brush against her in that tiny kitchen, a hand, an arm, whatever he thought he could get away with, growing bolder when she seemed to encourage him.

There wasn't room in the apartment for a table, or even a couch, so they sat on the floor to eat, with their backs against the bed, close together, so that their shoulders just touched. While Jack knew he could have moved over, and given them some space, and he was sure that Kate did too, he didn't, enjoying the warmth of her body, so close that he could have kissed her if only he was feeling brave enough to try again.

The tiny black and white TV was on, but he had no idea what they watched; he was only aware of how happy she looked under its glow, how sweet the scent of her shampoo was as she leant against him, how much he wished he had the nerve to lean over and…

He was so stuck on this idea that it caught him by surprise when, on impulse, she turned her head, pressing her lips softly to his. It wasn't anything like the kiss he'd been envisioning on the sidewalk, but it was sweet, especially the way she smiled at him afterwards, laying her head on his shoulder.

"I had fun tonight," she murmured after a moment, her voice slurred with exhaustion.

"Really? I did too." He swept the bangs tenderly out of her eyes so that he could read the expression there, watching them flutter shut as she gave in to whatever it was she'd been fighting all evening.

And just like that, she was asleep, her body going lax against his as her breathing slowed, her hand curling limply against his chest.

Sliding his arm around her back, and hooking the other under her legs, he eased them both up off the floor, amazed, and disturbed, at how light she was. He was sure he was going to wake her up, maybe even frighten her with his presumptuousness, but she just sighed, shifting her hand to his shoulder as she settled into him with an unconscious smile.

Loosening his grip on her long enough to peel back the comforter, he lowered her into bed, extricating himself from her gently as he covered her over. She looked so peaceful, so different to the girl that he knew, that he couldn't take his eyes off of her for a moment; smiling, he leant over and returned her kiss, letting his lips linger against hers for only as long as she had, before he scribbled her a brief note and let himself out of the apartment.


	10. Chapter 10

I know, it sucks that the alerts are still down – it's been a week! And yet, I'm still doing really well in the reviews department, so thanks. I'm glad you all liked the last chapter. I was going to have them go to a restaurant for their date, but somehow, it just didn't feel like something the real Jack and Kate would do.

I know you'd all love to see more like that one, and I promise you you will, but as I said, things are going to get a little darker in the next few chapters…

* * *

Chapter 10. Fine

The last thing Kate remembered was kissing Jack, and telling him what a good time she'd had with him, so when she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find herself alone, in bed, still dressed in her clothes from the previous night.

Struggling into a sitting position, she saw that it was morning, sunlight streaming in through a chink in her curtains. The TV was off, and Jack was gone; glancing around the apartment for some sign that she hadn't dreamed the whole thing, she spotted a piece of paper on the nightstand with her name scrawled across it.

Grinning, she unfolded it quickly, relieved that he didn't seem too offended that she'd drifted off while still on a date with him. She hadn't meant to; the whole evening had been fun, from the walk to her apartment, to their disastrous trip across town, to cooking and curling up with him in from of the television, but she was so tired lately that she couldn't seem to sit still without losing consciousness. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to get from the floor to the bed though; with a smile, she realised that that must have been Jack's doing. If it were anyone else, she would have found it unnerving, knowing how vulnerable she must have been for him to move her so easily, but since it was Jack, she couldn't help finding it endearing. He was still a stranger in a lot of ways, but somehow, she knew that he was different; he would never intentionally hurt her.

She had to read the note several times to decipher his scratchy, almost illegible handwriting, before she understood that he'd gone back to his dorm after she'd fallen asleep, but would see her again later at breakfast.

Breakfast.

The diner.

Checking her watch, Kate saw that it was ten to seven, ten minutes until she was due to start her next shift. She was only working until lunchtime that day, but still, she didn't think anyone would appreciate her showing up late.

Leaping out of bed, she was struck by another wave of dizziness; she had to grip the headboard for support until the fog cleared enough for her to stumble into the bathroom. She didn't have time for a shower, so she splashed cold water on her face, yanking on her work dress and racing out onto the street just as the little hand struck seven.

The manager was on the phone when she snuck in the back, weaker now that she'd run the couple of blocks from her building; before she could get into trouble, she got straight to work unpacking the dishwasher, stopping only to sit down for a moment when it felt like she might actually pass out this time.

She was coming out of the kitchen when Jack walked in after eight, his face breaking into a grin when he saw her. Counting to five to hide her excitement, she waited until he was seated to approach him; checking to make sure that no one was watching, she leant over his table under the pretence of pointing something out on the menu, planting a quick, daring kiss on his lips.

He looked surprised, still unsure of the protocol, but he smiled, reaching for her hand when she straightened up again. "Did you sleep well last night? You were pretty exhausted," he said, squeezing her fingers gently in his.

She squeezed back before reluctantly breaking contact with him, afraid the manager would see what they were doing and call her away. "So well I was late this morning," she told him, pulling her order book out of her apron so that she at least appeared to be working. Since she'd left Iowa, she'd had nightmares almost every night, but for some reason, those dreams had begun to fade in the days since she'd met Jack.

When he frowned, looking concerned, she added, "It's okay. My supervisor was on the phone – I don't think she saw me come in."

"Lucky." His grin returned as he settled back in his seat, fidgeting with the menu. "You finish at one today, right?"

"Right." She felt a smile creep onto her own face as she realised what was coming. He couldn't wait until the party on Tuesday; he wanted to spend what was left of the weekend with her as well. "And then I'm free," she told him pointedly, urging him on.

It seemed to give him the confidence he needed, because he said, "Great, because I was thinking we could hang out again, maybe go for a walk in Central Park or something," looking pleased with himself when she nodded eagerly in response.

"I'd love to."

* * *

Jack had brought his books again, but to Kate's delight, he seemed to be having trouble concentrating as stared out the window with a dreamy look, waiting for her to finish. She didn't like distracting him from his work when she knew he had exams coming up, but at the same time, she was pleased that he was as happy this morning as she was after their amazing, if unconventional date. She didn't want to be falling for him the feeling wasn't returned, so it was a relief to know that he seemed to be as taken with her as she was with him.

She almost bounced out of the kitchen at one when she was finally allowed to go, helping him pack up his books before they headed to her place so that she could shower and change into a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans.

He had too much to carry with him, so he left his stuff at her apartment, and they set off down the sidewalk, not really going anywhere, just walking, their shoulders brushing lightly against each other. They were silent at first, enjoying each other's company without needing to speak, until Jack reached for her hand, encasing it in his own.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, offering her a tentative smile. "I still don't know my way around the city that well, so if you've got any ideas…"

"I liked what you said about Central Park," she told him, happy to keep walking if it meant she wouldn't have to let go of his hand. There was something comforting about being connected to him in that way; it made her feel less scared, less alone.

Even after sleeping so well last night, she was still strangely exhausted, so a few blocks later she decided to test the boundaries a little further by resting her head on his arm. He didn't object, looking down at her with his warm brown eyes as he asked, "Are you okay? You still don't look great."

"Yeah, I'm just tired," she told him, deciding to keep the fact that her head was spinning, and she was still having dizzy spells, to herself. She didn't want to worry him any more than she already had, and besides, it wasn't exactly the kind of thing she wanted to discuss with him on their second date.

In spite of the fact that she was downplaying how lousy she felt, he brought his hand up to her forehead, checking her temperature, first with his palm, then with the back of his fingers. "You're not too warm, but I think you should still see a doctor," he said.

"I thought I was," she returned, teasing him, but her joke fell flat when he frowned at her, giving her a hard, no-nonsense look.

"I'm serious, Kate. You're not eating, you're working fourteen-hour days – you almost fainted last night. I think you should get yourself checked out."

Annoyed that he wasn't going to drop it, she let go of his hand, giving up all pretence of good-humour as she said, "Why? So some doctor can prescribe antibiotics I can't afford, for something I may or may not have, when I can just ride it out on my own?"

She wished he would just respect her wish to leave it alone, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel touched that he cared so much about her when he really had no reason to. Softening towards him, she tried to sound reasonable as she added, "I'm sorry, but I mean it, I don't need a doctor, okay? I haven't been sleeping – I'm probably just run down." She knew he was right, that it was better to be safe than sorry, but for some reason, she just hadn't been able to bring herself to see someone.

He sighed, more disappointed in her than hurt. "Okay," he agreed, backing off, "but if you still feel like this in a couple of days, promise me you'll go. There's a free clinic just down the block from the diner. The service won't be great, but they'll be able to refer you to a better doctor if it's anything serious."

She wanted to keep fighting him until he let her have the last word, but he looked so concerned that she couldn't help but nod. "Okay, I'll go, but I don't want to talk about it anymore. I feel fine."


	11. Chapter 11

I wasn't going to write today, I was going to study, but how can I resist when you guys are being so encouraging?! ;)

* * *

Chapter 11. I Guess Not 

It drove him crazy, the way Kate so determined to fight him at every turn, when all he wanted was to take care of her, but Jack knew a losing battle when he saw one. He couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to; if he tried, he knew she'd flare up and retreat, maybe even end things for good, and then he wouldn't even be able to keep an eye on her. It was better to let her think she'd won.

Pushing their argument out of his mind, Jack resolved to enjoy the rest of their weekend together, before Monday came, and he was forced to go back to his life at Columbia. Letting the conversation taper off, he started walking again; she fell into step beside him, returning her fingers to his once she'd forgiven his intrusion.

"I was wondering, what sort of stuff do girls wear to college parties?" she asked, opening up a new topic, making him smile when he realised how nervous she was, especially since she was going to have to make do with whatever she already had in her wardrobe. "I don't want to stand out."

"I don't know, dresses, jeans – pretty much the same stuff they wear to high school parties," he told her with a shrug, wishing he could be of more help. Marc could probably offer a suggestion or two, given the amount of time he spent talking to girls, but he wasn't there, and besides, he and Jack had very different taste.

Kate's face fell a little. "Oh," she said, looking disappointed at his vague answer. "I guess I'll find something. I've got a couple of tops I never really get the chance to wear…"

"Whatever you decide on, I'm sure you'll look great," he told her, squeezing her hand to reassure her, pleased when she ducked her head, trying to conceal her blush.

"I'm really looking forward to it," she said when she recovered from her embarrassment, her face lighting up with excitement. "Maybe if we get a chance, you can even show me around campus – you know, like the library and the dorms and stuff."

She was still talking in the same conversational tone, so Jack wasn't sure if this was an invitation or not, but he felt a blush creep up onto his own cheeks at the idea of taking her back to his dorm room. Marc would love that. According to him, that was exactly what you were supposed to do when you brought a date to one of these parties. "Sure," he agreed, deciding to take her words at face value for the moment, "whatever you want."

They fell into another companionable silence as they continued towards Central Park; it was one of the things Jack liked most about Kate, the fact that he didn't feel the need to make small talk around her, that he could just be with her, and it never seemed to feel awkward like it did with other girls.

They bought lunch from a vendor across the street, and spent the next few hours wandering around, enjoying the fresh air, until they stumbled on a grove of trees Kate insisted were exactly like the ones back home. Before Jack could stop her, or even finish his protest, she'd clambered up into the branches of one with surprising dexterity, goading him to come up and sit with her.

"Don't be such a chicken, Jack – it's not that high," she called, looking down on him with an amused grin, when he refused to join her for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"It's high enough," he told her, planting himself on a bench at the foot of the tree while he waited for her to give up. He wasn't going to say it again, but he was concerned after what had happened last night, afraid that she'd have another dizzy spell and fall out.

"See that group of guys over there?" she continued, pointing out a bunch of college-aged kids tossing a football around.

He knew what she was trying to do, so he kept his eyes on her, ignoring them. "Not gonna work, Kate – I don't succumb to peer pressure."

She shrugged, giving him an innocent look, but he could still see the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "No one's trying to pressure you, I just didn't think you'd want to look like more of a girl than than the girl you're dating."

"Well, I know I'm not a girl, and that's enough for me," he told her stubbornly, laughing when she dropped back down beside him with a petulant look.

"You really are an old woman, Shephard."

Her eyes were still bright, her cheeks flushed from the wind, and the exertion of climbing, making her seem healthier, and more like herself than she had since their date the previous night. He'd wanted to kiss her then, a real kiss, like the one he'd imagined they would have had on the sidewalk, but she'd fallen asleep before he'd gotten his chance.

"Oh, yeah? If I'm such an old woman, then why do I want to do this?" he said, seizing the moment like he should have the night before. He leant in and covered her mouth with his own, feeling her hands creep up to the back of his neck as she drew him closer, deepening the kiss.

A mocking wolf whistle sounded behind them, from the direction of the college boys, but he ignored it, tightening his arms around Kate's waist, revelling in the feeling of kissing her, and having her kiss him back.

"Bet they don't think I'm such a girl now," he said, resting his forehead against hers when they came up for air, grinning when she pulled him back in before they'd even had time to catch their breaths.

* * *

Jack was still smiling when he returned to his room later that night, to find Marc playing Space Invaders on his computer, his books still on the floor where he'd left them two days ago. 

"Hey, man, I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks," he said without taking his eyes off the monitor. "How's it going with what's her name? The waitress?"

"Her name's Kate," Jack filled in, sitting down on the bed, dawdling over his shoes as he replayed the last few hours. If anything, the afternoon they'd spent together had been even more enjoyable than the date they'd had at her place, especially the part where they'd made out at the park.

Marc frowned, swivelling around in his chair once he'd finished punching his name into the high score menu. "Really? I thought her badge said 'Leah' or something."

"It's a long story, but her name is Kate, and things are going really well," Jack told him, changing the subject, determined not to dwell on the confusion over her name when it was still something he still didn't understand himself. He kept meaning to ask her, but she seemed so sensitive about her past that he could never bring himself to hurt her by mentioning it.

"You guys have been out twice?" Marc clarified, giving him a hopeful smile when he nodded. "Plus the other night at the diner – did you get to second base with her yet?"

"Is that all you think about?" Jack asked with an exasperated sigh, determined not to mention the fact that technically, with the kiss in the park, he'd only just gotten to first.

"Sadly, yes." Marc switched off his computer, and flopped onto his bed, staring at Jack expectantly. "So?"

Jack shrugged, giving his friend a smug smile as he headed into the bathroom to take a shower. "A gentleman never kisses and tells."

"So that's a no," Marc called as he shut the door, ending the conversation. Jack heard him sigh, his voice muffled as he added, "Geez, man – two dates. What're you waiting for, a wedding announcement?"

* * *

Jack had to spend Monday catching up on his classes, so he didn't see Kate again until Tuesday. She was with another customer when he entered the diner, so he took a seat at his usual booth, confused, and slightly miffed, when she looked up at him, but didn't make an excuse to come over. 

She appeared to be mad at him, but when Jack let his mind wander back to the last time he'd seen her, on Sunday, he couldn't think of a reason. She'd seemed fine when he told her that he wouldn't be able to come over last night; in fact, if the kiss she'd given him when he left was any indication, she was still as happy as she'd been at the park.

So what had changed?

She wouldn't meet his eyes, so he waited until she passed his table to catch her wrist, hurt when she jerked it away from him. "Kate?" he said, the name slipping out before he could check it. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

He tried to keep his voice calm, soothing, but she gave him a stony, closed off look, ignoring the intimacy they'd shared only a day before. "Are you here to eat? Because if you're not, you should leave. Other people need to sit here."

It was like the last few days had never happened: him in this booth, her standing there, cold and bitter, only where before her behaviour had confused him, now it just made him feel tired and bewildered.

"Kate…?" he said again, hoping to reach her, but she was so determined to pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about, that she didn't know him, that he only seemed to succeed in pushing her further inside herself.

"Can't you read my badge? It says 'Leah'." Reaching into the pocket of her apron, she pulled out a thick envelope, placing it on the table in front of him, the only acknowledgement she made of the fact that they'd once had a relationship.

He didn't have to open it to know what it was; he searched her eyes for an explanation, but she ignored him, focusing her attention on her order book instead. "What do you want?"

What he wanted was some sign that she hadn't really forgotten, something more than the proverbial slap in the face she'd just given him, but instead, he resigned himself to the fact that whatever was going on with her, she didn't want him to be a part of it. "So I guess you're not coming to the party then."

"Coffee it is." She didn't say another word, but as hard as she tried to make it look like she didn't care, he could see the sadness in her eyes as she turned away from him, leaving him to answer the question himself.

"I guess not."

* * *

I know, I'm cruel, when you were all looking forward to the party, but bright side? Next chapter we get to find out what's going on in Kate's head. She has a reason for being so cold, I promise. Whether or not it's a good one is up to you... 


	12. Chapter 12

You know, I really thought more of you guys were going to guess it. I think I dropped enough hints, some not so subtle (as you pointed out Tahti)...

A little creepy, I know, and gross, but I thought it was an interesting idea, especially since I've never seen a young Jate fic that dealt with serious adult issues like this before.

* * *

Chapter 12. Ruined 

Kate felt a wave of revulsion go through her as she stared at the plastic stick in her hand.

Pregnant.

The word sounded strange, foreign, in her head, like something that was happening to somebody else. But it wasn't. It was real.

It had taken a trip to the clinic down the street from the diner, and three of these ridiculously expensive home kits to convince her, but slowly the horror was beginning to sink in. The doctor hadn't made a mistake like she'd prayed: she was pregnant. In a little over eight months, there would be a baby, a living reminder of something she'd tried so hard to forget. She'd run so far to get away from it, to get on with her life, but here it was, catching up with her in the most crushing and permanent way.

She let her fingers drift tentatively to her stomach, wishing that she could feel warmth, excitement, whatever it was that she was supposed to feel at that moment, but all she wanted was for it to be over, for her to be alone again.

For it to be gone.

It.

Her baby.

Those words sounded strange too, especially since she knew she'd never be able to think of it as her child. She'd never be able to want it, to love it, not the way a mother was supposed to. Instead, she hated it. It didn't matter that it hadn't asked to be there, because she hadn't asked it to be there either. It was the one thing besides genes that they had in common.

She was eighteen years old and friendless in a big city, with no high school diploma, no prospects, and barely enough money to cover her rent. In spite of all this, life hadn't seemed so bad yesterday, but now, because of it, she didn't even have Jack anymore.

It hurt, remembering the look in his eyes when she ignored him at the diner, when she pretended that she hadn't held his hand, or kissed him at the park, or made him believe that maybe one day she could love him the way he deserved. Worse still was the expression on his face when she'd handed him the money she owed him, the money she knew he'd never wanted back in the first place, as if that somehow made them even. As if somehow, that meant he didn't have to care anymore.

It hurt, but it was for the best. This was her nightmare. He was so determined to help her, to save her; she couldn't drag him into it too, even if she knew he wouldn't mind. He was going to be a doctor. She couldn't take that away from him, not when he could be a real hero and help so many people more deserving than her.

The fog in her head had cleared, but her legs shook as she stood at the sink, too disgusted to look at herself in the mirror, so she let them carry her to the floor, dropping the test into the trash on top of the others. She wanted to be sick, to purge herself, but her stomach was empty; everything in her felt hollow, used up.

Ruined.

It repulsed her to think that she'd let Jack touch her, after… after what had happened, when he was so sweet, and gentle, and good, but at the same time, she wished there was some way that he could do it again, that it didn't really have to be over between them, in spite of her noble resolve to protect him. That she would still get the chance to fall in love with him.

* * *

Short I know, but it was hard to write, since fortunately (!), I've never been in Kate's situation... So in answer to your question, mcanj25, no, that doesn't include Wayne, the pervert! 

Next chapter: the party. Jack's still going to go, but will Kate? And if so, how will she explain it all to him?


	13. Chapter 13

I'm glad you all seemed to enjoy the plot twist. I was worried that it would be too much like my last story, although Jack's not gonna be the father this time! (And neither is Sawyer.) I know some of you are still a little confused about the baby's paternity, so I've cleared that up here.

This chapter is actually really long, the longest I've ever posted (or in fact written in a twenty four hour period), but I'm really excited about it. It was one of the first things I thought of when I started mapping out this story...

Oh, by the way, you guys don't think Kate is pregnant on the show, do you? That's not what Ben and Juliet mean when they're talking about samples? (Please say is isn't so! I've had enough Skate to last me a lifetime!) As always, I'm stuck watching "Stranger in a Strange Land", like a million episodes behind you guys...

* * *

Chapter 13. Disturbing Behaviour 

Jack had waited at the diner for over an hour, but when Kate wouldn't talk to him, or even glance in his direction, he went back to school feeling angry and dejected. He was too miserable to go to class, so he sat in his dorm, staring at the wall, watching the light grow dimmer as evening descended.

He was still sitting there at dusk, trying not to think too much about what had just happened, when Marc came in to change for the party, starting at the sight of his still silhouette.

"Jesus, man! What're you doing, sitting there in the dark? You nearly gave me a heart attack," he said, switching on the light as he shut the door behind him.

It took a moment for him to react, but then Jack squinted at his friend, too morose to bother stringing an explanation together.

Dropping his keys onto the desk, Marc studied his expression, his eyes widening in surprise when he registered his mood. "Are you brooding?"

"No, I'm not." Jack shook his head, feeling his lips curl into a sardonic smile. He didn't want to talk about it, least of all with Marc. He just wanted him to get out so that he could be alone again.

But Marc was oblivious to this, that or he wasn't going to leave Jack alone with his self-pity. "What happened? D'you get an A minus on a test or something?" When Jack didn't answer, his expression grew serious as he went on, "Let me guess – you tried something on that waitress and she dumped you. Figures."

Jack sighed. There it was, the subject he'd been dreading. "She didn't dump me," he corrected his friend, feeling the bitterness he'd been wrestling with since he left Kate creep into his voice as he added, "That would imply that she actually gave me a reason. She won't talk to me."

"So you're just going to sit here and sulk?" Marc gave him an incredulous and slightly disapproving look, letting his shirt fall to the floor as he yanked a clean one over his head.

There was no sense in denying it again. Marc knew it; even he knew it. He was brooding. "Yeah, I am, so you should probably just go," Jack told him, seizing the opportunity to get rid of his friend.

But Marc wasn't ready to leave yet. "Look at you, man, moping over some chick you've known for like a week. It's not healthy." He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it slightly, trying to make it look like he'd at least brushed it.

Normally Jack would have laughed at his friend's vanity, but he was too incensed at the way Marc kept probing his wounds. "You don't understand, so just drop it, okay?" he snapped. Marc never cared about any of the girls he went home with, so how could he possibly know what it felt like to be cast off by someone he was falling in love with?

He expected Marc get insulted and leave then, but his friend grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragging him to his feet. "C'mon, man, we're going to the party," he said, giving Jack a stern look.

Before Jack could protest, he hauled him over to the door, shoving him out into the hall, and locking the door behind them. "We'll get you drunk, find some chick to screw you, and by tomorrow, you will've forgotten all about her."

* * *

Jack knew Marc meant well, but he wasn't interested in a night of drinking and meaningless sex, no matter how numbing, so he ended up sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, watching his friend chat up girls. He knew Marc was probably right, that it was probably easier not to get involved with the girl you were sleeping with, but Jack didn't want easy, he wanted Kate, in all her imperfection. He just couldn't understand why she didn't want him. 

He tried to focus on the music, on the conversations around him, anything but the dull ache in his chest when he thought of the last time he saw her, but he couldn't seem to forget the coldness in her voice, or the way she slid the money across the table like it was all some kind of business arrangement.

The part that hurt most was that it wasn't just the money he'd loaned her for her rent, it was every cent he'd ever given her, including the fifty dollars he'd pressed into her hand the day he met her. If he hadn't seen her apartment, he would have begun to doubt that she'd ever needed it in the first place, but as it was, he didn't even know how she'd managed to scrape it all together.

She must have really wanted to get rid of him.

The clock had just struck one when Marc came to tell him that he was leaving, tipsy, with a similarly intoxicated redhead hanging off his shoulder. He didn't seem to care what Jack did with himself after that, so sighing inwardly with relief, Jack prepared to go back to his room, until he caught sight of a familiar dark head through the crowd.

At first he thought he was just imagining it, imagining her, after his thoughts had been stuck on her for so long, but then she got closer, and he saw that it was Kate, grinning at him as if nothing had ever happened.

"Jack! Hey!"

Her voice was a little too loud, even over the music, as she reached up to kiss him; Jack pushed her away, unnerved by her sudden appearance. Aside from the fact that she was acting bipolar, there was something not quite right about it, about her; now that she was standing in front of him, Jack could see that her eyes were dim and unfocused, as if she wasn't entirely aware of her surroundings.

"I thought you weren't coming?" he said, watching her closely, trying to figure out what it was about her that was bothering him so much.

"I changed my mind – I can do that, can't I? It's a woman's prerog… perog… you know what I mean." Drawing herself up to her full height, she tried to look indignant, but the effect was ruined when she stumbled slightly, gripping his shoulder for support.

It was at that moment, as she leaned into him to right herself, that Jack caught the unmistakable stink of alcohol on her breath.

"Are you drunk?"

"No!" She drew out the word, fixing him with an incredulous look as she tried to stand on her own. She was covering it up, badly too, but now that Jack knew she'd been drinking, he could recognise the signs. She was definitely wasted.

"Come on, I'm taking you home," he said, sliding an arm around her shoulders to steady her, but when he tried to lead her outside, she dug her heels in, rooting herself to the spot.

"I just got here. Don't you want to dance or something?" Her voice was low and seductive as she turned inwards, towards him, pressing her body against his, her finger tracing the edge of his jaw.

Jack shivered at her touch, but quickly jerked his head away. "No," he said firmly, snapping out of it. Extricating himself from her gently, he braced his hands against her shoulders, keeping her at a safe distance as he added, "What I really want is for you to go home and sleep it off."

"I don't want to go home," she insisted, giving him a petulant look. "I want to see your room. You promised."

Jack considered his options, deciding, with a sigh, that he didn't really have much of a choice. It would be difficult to find a cab at this time of night, with everybody moving on from the party, and he wouldn't be able to get her onto the subway unless it was what she wanted. He could just see the looks on people's faces as they watched him wrestle a drunken girl onto the train. They'd probably think he was some kind of deviant.

"Okay, Kate," he said finally, "we'll go to the dorms, but then you're going to sleep."

She nodded, relaxing as they left the party, and he thought she was finally getting to the stage where she was just tired, but as soon as he'd closed the door to his room, she was on him again, kissing him, her movements needy and desperate. With her face so close to his, he couldn't see her expression, but he could swear that she was crying, her tears leaving damp smudges across his cheeks.

"Kate." He broke the kiss, trying to push her away, but this only made her more frantic as she fumbled inexpertly with the buttons on his shirt.

"Don't try to fight it, Jack," she murmured against his ear, in a voice so sultry and unlike her own. It made him feel dirty, disgusted with himself for being so turned on by it, and everything else she was doing right then. "I know it's what you want – what all men want. That's why you asked me here, right? To the party?"

She didn't wait for his answer, her lips moving to his neck, planting fervid kisses beneath his jaw as she reached for his belt, but he caught her hands before she could unbuckle it, forcing them back to her sides. "No, Kate, not now, not like this, with you drunk and upset. You deserve better than that."

These words seemed to snap her out of her trance; taking a step back, she surveyed him with horror, her eyes wide and tear-stained. "I'm sorry, I should… I should just…"

"Kate." He reached for her, wanting to comfort her, to find out what it was that was making her act this way, but she dodged his hands, turning and bolting out the door.

* * *

The idea of Kate wandering the streets alone in that state terrified Jack, so once he'd calmed down, he went after her, to make sure that she got home in once piece. He wasn't going to go in, but when he reached her apartment, he found that the door was unlocked, so he opened it, forgetting his resolve the moment he heard her retching inside the tiny bathroom. 

She was still slumped over the toilet when he reached her, so he filled a glass with water and crouched at her side, drawing her hair back out of her face. She hadn't finished yet, so he waited until she fell back against the wall, pale and exhausted, to offer her the water, holding it up to her lips when she was too weak to take it.

"Thanks," she mumbled when he lowered the glass, satisfied that she'd swallowed enough. She didn't seem to know what else to say to him, so she stared at the tiles, embarrassed, her face glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

"What's going on, Kate?" he asked, sitting beside her, but she shook her head, her eyes darting to the sink, the shower, anywhere but his, until they finally came to rest on the trash can in the corner. She bit her lip, and he saw her tear up again, turning her face away from him.

Frustrated, Jack followed her gaze to where it had just been, his eyes falling on a box poking over the rim. He could only read half the label, but it was enough; pushing himself to his feet, he went over and stared inside, his heart sinking as he realised why she was so upset.

She was pregnant.

That was why she'd almost fainted on the sidewalk, why she was so tired all the time, why she felt like she couldn't talk to him about it.

He might have been able to convince himself that it wasn't true, that they were both overreacting, if it wasn't for the fact that there were three separate tests that all said the same thing.

She was pregnant.

Jack felt a wave of fury wash over him as a thought occurred to him, one that made him want to storm out of the apartment and leave her to her misery. "Is that what this is about, Kate? Why you said you've never had a boyfriend? Why you tried to get me to sleep with you? You wanted me to think it was mine?"

She looked up at him, ashamed, fresh tears spilling onto his cheeks, as she said, "I didn't… I didn't know until today, but I thought… I thought if there was a chance, you wouldn't…" she trailed off, sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, so that it was all Jack could do to restrain himself from taking her into her arms. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, I just wanted to pretend…"

"To pretend what, Kate?" he prompted her, softening his tone. "Whose baby is it?"

"I don't know."

"I don't think that's true, Kate," he said, prying her hands gently away from her face, unprepared for the venom in her voice and her eyes as she snapped back,

"I don't care what you think. This is none of your business, so back off."

Jack withdrew his hands quickly, cowed, until he realised that she was wrong, that he had every right to be asking these questions after what she'd tried to do to him. "That's not what you thought when you tried to make it my business."

"Yeah, well, I chickened out, so you can relax," she said bitterly, struggling to her feet. "You're off the hook now, so you don't have to pretend that you care."

She tried to push past him, but Jack caught her arm, anchoring her there, to him. "You're having a baby, Kate – stop acting like a child."

He expected her to flare up again, maybe even slap him for insulting her like that, but her face crumpled, and she sank into his chest, all of the rage and the fight leaving her. "I am a child, Jack," she said, looking up at him, so young and scared all of a sudden that it almost broke his heart. "I'm eighteen years old. I don't have any money, I can't go home – I never even finished high school. How am I supposed to do this?"

It wasn't a rhetorical question; she really wanted an answer, but since Jack couldn't give her one, he shook his head. "I don't know, but you shouldn't be doing it alone."

"I have to."

"Why?" Her voice was so stubborn and firm, that he wished there was some way he could talk some sense into her. She was right; she couldn't do it, not without help. "Where's the guy who did this to you? Why isn't he here?"

She shook her head, breaking out of his grasp. "It doesn't matter."

"It does." Jack couldn't understand why she was protecting this guy when he obviously didn't care about her.

"Let it go."

When Jack opened his mouth to protest again, she cut him off, her voice pleading as she repeated, more desperate this time, "Please, Jack, just let it go."

The wild look in her eyes was starting to scare him; Jack felt his heart skip a beat as a sickening thought occurred to him. "Did he… did he hurt you? Is that why you ran away? Why you changed your name?"

She shook her head again, but Jack found her denial hard to accept when she started to cry, harder this time, collapsing into him as she choked out, "I told you to let it go."

He didn't know what to do with this knowledge, so he tightened his arms around her, rubbing slow, rhythmic circles in her back while she cried. He'd never considered himself violent; he was better at fixing things than breaking them; but listening to her anguished sobs, knowing that someone had used her that way, he felt an anger unlike any he'd ever experienced, like he might actually be capable of murder, if only she'd show him where to point the gun.

At the very least, he wanted the guy who'd hurt her locked up, where karma would take care of the rest. "You have to go to the police," he told her once she'd exhausted herself enough for him to settle her at the foot of the bed beside him.

"I can't," she said softly, broken, her face rueful as she added, "I can't tell them. I can't tell anyone."

"I know this is hard for you, Kate, but you—"

"No, you don't understand," she cut in, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It wasn't just some guy, it was…" she closed her eyes, swallowing, "it was my stepfather, Wayne. If I go to the cops, he'll know, and he'll… he'll hurt her – my mom. He might even kill her this time.

"I just want to forget about it. That's why… that's why I did what I did at the party. I thought maybe if the baby was ours…"

"It's okay," Jack said softly, pulling her to him, wishing, for her sake, that it really could be. He wasn't sure he was ready to be a parent, but then neither was she. She deserved to have someone to share her burden with. "You don't have to do anything right now – you should just try to get some sleep."

She was exhausted, so he helped her into bed, planting a soft kiss on her lips, but before he could leave, she latched onto his hand. "Stay with me, please. I don't want to be alone."

Wordlessly, Jack climbed into bed with her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. She settled back against him with a sigh, tucking her head under his chin, and before he'd even had the chance to wish her "Goodnight", she was asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Wow! You guys are really divided on the issue of whether or not Kate should have the baby. I can see both sides, so hopefully the solution I've come up with will be satisfying to everyone. Don't worry though -- whatever she decides, Jack will support her, in fact, he may actually be instrumental to her decision...

* * *

Chapter 14. Baby Talk

When Kate woke the next morning, her head was throbbing, like someone was using a jackhammer on the inside of her skull. She couldn't open her eyes, so she lay very still, trying not to set it off by moving.

She could feel the warmth of another body pressed against hers; in a dizzying rush, the events of the night before flooded back to her: how she'd gone to the party looking for Jack, but found she couldn't face him sober, how she'd tried to jump him in his dorm room, how even though she'd hurt him, he'd followed her home and stayed with her through one of the worst nights of her life.

It was humiliating, knowing that he'd seen her at such a low point, but it was also strangely comforting. Even so, she was tempted to keep feigning sleep until he got up and went back to campus, but she knew that she'd have to face him eventually, so with a sigh of resignation, she eased her eyes open.

Looking around, she realised that she must have rolled over during the night, because, while she remembered falling asleep with Jack spooning her, they were now chest to chest, her body curled in towards his. It should have been awkward, especially after their encounter last night, but she found that she liked being so close to him, even after everything that had happened. She felt safe there, in his arms, like no one, not even Wayne, could ever hurt her again.

"Hey," he said softly when he saw that she was awake.

"Hey." She smiled when he leant over her, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. He didn't seem to be mad, in fact, it was as if everything they'd been through in the last twenty-four hours had somehow brought them closer together. "What time is it?"

"It's just after ten." He settled back down, seemingly unfazed by this piece of information.

"What? Ten? Are you sure?" Feeling a surge of panic run through her, Kate struggled to sit up, cringing when she was rewarded with another jolt of pain. "I should've been at the diner hours ago," she said meekly, flopping back against her pillow until she was brave enough to try again.

So this is what a hangover feels like, she thought. She'd never had one before, and now, she knew why.

"It's okay," he said, running his fingers lightly over her hair to soothe her. "I called and told them you wouldn't be able to make it."

"Why would you do that?" It was sweet that he still wanted to take care of her, but Kate couldn't help feeling a little defensive. She didn't like other people making decisions for her.

"Because you had a rough night," he explained, so reasonably that it irritated her because she couldn't argue. "You're pregnant, and I'm guessing, hungover – I figured between the two, you were going to feel like death warmed up this morning."

She gave him a defiant look, trying to prove him wrong by sitting up, but as soon as she did, her head starting throbbing again, and her stomach revolted. "You're right – I think I'm going to be sick!"

She made it to the bathroom just in time, only dimly aware that he'd followed her in. "Great, that was definitely something I wanted you to see," she told him, wiping her mouth and accepting the glass he offered her when she was done.

"If I'm going to be a doctor, I'm going to see a lot worse." He smiled sympathetically as he took it took it back from her, setting it on the floor beside them.

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in class?" She gave him a serious look as she sat back against the wall, hating the idea that even after she'd tried to protect him, he was still putting his future at risk for her. "I mean, maybe all that alcohol scrambled my brain, but I thought you said you had classes like fourteen hours a day?"

"I blew them off," he said, his voice uncharacteristically dismissive. "They're not important." He was trying to make light of it, but she could tell from the guilt in his eyes that it was bothering him.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," she told him, concerned. He just didn't seem like the kind of guy who got a kick out of shirking his commitments.

"What?"

"Cutting class."

"Oh." He stared down at the tiles, fidgeting with the glass. "I did some work over the summer, so I'm ahead in most of my courses. I'm still waiting for everyone else to catch up."

Kate wasn't sure that was entirely true, but she decided to let it go now that she'd made her disapproval known.

"You really should eat," he said as they left the bathroom, changing the subject to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

"I'm fine – I'm not hungry," Kate said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, wondering what she was going to do with herself now that she had an entire day off. She still didn't feel well, but at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted to sit around for the next two or three months waiting for it to pass.

"I know, but you need to eat – for the baby," he said gently, taking her hand, but she jerked it away. Why did he have to keep bringing that up?

"Stop calling it that."

"Stop calling what what?"

"Stop calling it 'the baby' like it's a person," she said, standing up from the bed, wishing that he would stop being so understanding. She wanted him to hate it, like she did. It would make everything a lot easier. "A baby is something people have when they're in love. This," she put a hand over her still flat stomach for emphasis, "is an infection, a disease…"

"Something to be cured, right?" He softened his tone, making it hard for her to hold onto her anger. But she had to; she needed to. "So that's what you're going to do? You're going to get rid of it – you're not even going to consider keeping it yourself?"

"Why would I? I never asked for this, Jack. I'm not even sure I'm mother material. It's not like I had the best role model." Kate felt like bursting into tears as she thought of her own mother, probably worried sick back at the diner in Iowa. In spite of the grudge she still harboured against her, she wished she could go home and crawl into her arms. That was what you were supposed to do when something like this happened. Mothers were supposed to make your life better, not worse.

"So you want to be like her?" Jack continued, bringing her back to the moment. "Selfish? Putting what you want ahead of your child?"

"It's not my anything, Jack – it's his," she protested, trying to get back her anger. Somehow, thinking of the baby in these terms made it less real.

"I know, Kate, but it's yours too. You need to think about that before you do anything rash."

He was breaking down the wall she'd built; she didn't want to cry anymore, so she changed the subject, hoping to distract him with his original statement. "If I agree to eat, will you stop talking about this?"

"For now. But sooner or later you're going to have to make a decision, and I just don't want to see you do something you'll regret."

"Who says I won't regret keeping the baby?" she countered, deciding to let him in on some of her fears as she added, "What if it turns out exactly like him? What if I can't look at it without remembering what he did to me?"

He took her hand again, rubbing her palm gently with his thumb as he pulled her back down. "But what if you can? What if having this baby makes it easier? Do you really want to give that up?"


	15. Chapter 15

I've had a few days to work through my mental exhaustion, and now I'm back. I know some of you guys were wondering about Kate's relationship to Wayne, so let's just say that, since the idea of Kate giving birth to her own brother or sister is disturbing (and just plain wrong), Sam really is her biological father... (At least as far as anyone knows!)

If anyone's interested, I posted a one-shot called "Course Correction" yesterday, so check it out, and let me know what you think. (For those who have, thanks -- I know, I wish Desmond would have a vision like that too!)

* * *

Chapter 15. Do You Want To Break Up?

As Jack had anticipated, Kate wasn't well enough to leave the apartment, even after she stopped being sick, so he went out to get breakfast while she took a shower.

He was only gone about fifteen minutes, but when he came back, she was sitting against the headboard in a t-shirt and sweatpants, staring listlessly at the blank TV screen. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, or if she was thinking at all, because her expression was vacant, emotionless, as if she were made entirely of wax.

"I didn't know what you wanted, so I just got your standard breakfast foods," he told her, climbing onto the bed; she didn't move when he laid them out carefully in front of her, surveying each item with mild interest.

"Did you get any coffee?" she asked once he'd unpacked everything, frowning as she noted the absence of Styrofoam cups.

Now that he knew she was pregnant, Jack had debated whether or not he should appease her by buying her coffee. Chances were that whatever he said or did, she wasn't going to go through with it, but still, he wasn't sure he felt comfortable helping her hurt her baby. So for however long it remained, he was going to do whatever it took to make sure that they both stayed healthy, even if she hated him for it.

"No, I got us both juice," he told her, handing one of the bottles to her, unsurprised when she scowled, setting it aside on the nightstand.

What did surprise him, however, was that rather than pick a fight with him about it, she slid off the bed, going into the kitchen. He watched in disbelief as she switched on the kettle, making herself a cup of coffee, and returning to the bed without speaking.

She was silent through the rest of the meal, pulling a muffin apart, before swallowing half of it, only to throw it up again a few minutes later.

Jack gave up after a while, his own appetite gone as he transferred what was left into the kitchen, hoping that he could convince her to try again later, when she couldn't use morning sickness as an excuse.

Jack had read a lot of medical textbooks, ones that showed him how to deliver and care for babies, and treat the injuries sustained during a sexual assault, but none that could offer him any advice on healing emotional wounds. Until he'd met Kate, he'd thought that there wasn't a problem he couldn't fix, so long as he followed the right procedure, but now… he had no idea how to make things better for her. He wished that she was right, that it was just an infection, a disease, that she was carrying, because those, he knew how to treat, but the fact that it wasn't made it hard for him to agree that there was really a procedure that could fix this.

It was frustrating, but for now, all he could do was be there for her, until she decided what it was that she wanted to do.

She was still slumped against the headboard, staring off into space, so he pulled her into his arms. She looked at him, surprised, but didn't fight it, offering him a tiny, weak smile as she laid her cheek on his chest, her own arms wrapped securely around his waist.

"Thanks for staying with me," she said softly, "and for not jumping me when you had the chance. I was a mess – I didn't know what I was doing. I'm just sorry I dragged you into it."

"I'm not," he told her, kissing the top of her still damp curls, relieved that bit by bit, she was letting him in. "There's nothing I'd rather be doing, and no one I'd rather be doing it with."

She didn't look like she believed him, but she smiled, tucking her head back under his chin. "You're a liar, but you're still the sweetest guy I've ever met. I just wish things were different – you deserve to be with someone who isn't trying to throw you out one minute, and tearing your clothes off the next."

Jack didn't like where the conversation was headed, so he tried to make it into joke. "So you're a little unpredictable – it keeps things interesting," he told her, succeeding in making her laugh.

Her smile faded quickly, however, and she turned serious again. "I mean it, Jack. You don't have to stick around for this – any of this." Her fingers trailed down to her stomach, and Jack knew that she was talking about the baby.

Whether she kept it or not, she was giving him an out, before it complicated his life too. "You've done more than most people would." She gave him a wry smile. "I can think of about a dozen guys who would've run for the door the minute they realised I was pregnant. You didn't, and that means more than you'll ever know."

Jack could empathise with what she was doing, but he wasn't prepared to give up on her yet, especially now that he knew that this wasn't her fault. She couldn't help what had happened to her: why should he punish her for it, right when it looked like things might work out between them?

"I really like you, Kate – I think it might even go beyond that – so you can forget about trying to scare me off," he told her, pressing on when she opened her mouth to argue. "I don't care if you're pregnant, and I _really_ don't care how it happened, I want to be with you, so unless you can honestly tell me that that's not what you want, then you might as well accept it."

She stared at him for a long moment, tears forming in her eyes, and Jack could see that she was torn, so he asked, "Do you want to break up with me? Is that it? Because if that's what you want, I'll go now, and I won't come to the diner again."

He wasn't sure that he would be able to stay away if she agreed, but he needed to know how committed she was, especially now that he was offering to help her raise the baby if she decided to keep it.

"No," she said finally, her tears spilling over onto her cheeks. She burrowed deeper into him, clinging to him as if she thought he might make good on his threat to leave. "I don't want to break up with you."


	16. Chapter 16

It would be great if we could all have a Jack, although I'll admit, mine is a slightly idealised version. (He could be like that, though, if he put the same pig-headed devotion into his relationship with Kate that he did into contesting his divorce. He needs to learn when to give her space and when to push!)

* * *

Chapter 16. Mehetabel

Now that Jack had made it clear that he wasn't going anywhere, Kate was more convinced than ever that having the baby would be a mistake. She couldn't do that to him, he was too young, they both were; it would only end badly when reality set in, and they were trapped in a situation neither one of them was ready for.

Each morning she woke determined to finalise her decision, but before she could pick up the phone and make an appointment, Jack would show up with breakfast, and sit with her until her morning sickness passed, and she would lose her nerve for the next twenty-four hours.

He was so in love with the idea of adopting her baby, that, by the end of the second week, she'd stopped thinking about getting rid of it too, and while she wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect, it didn't seem so bad anymore. Even though they still hadn't had sex, she could pretend that it was his, or at least theirs, since he was the one taking care of them both, making sure that she ate well, and didn't work too hard. The one thing he could never seem to convince her to do though, was go to the doctor's; for some reason, the idea of actually seeing it terrified her, because afterwards, she wouldn't be able to pick and choose when it existed anymore. It would be real, and she would be forced to make a commitment one way or the other.

Now that it looked like they might actually be doing this, Jack was going to class less and less, and that bothered her, but whenever she pointed this out, he told her that it was fine, that he was keeping on top of things. She wasn't sure when he studying though, because he was with her almost every minute of the day; some nights he even stayed over so that he could be there for her when she woke up.

While Kate had avoided the subject of the baby for the first week or so, Jack couldn't seem to go more than an hour without mentioning it. She wasn't sure whether he was really that excited, or it was just his way of getting her to open up about it, but gradually something began to shift inside her, and she could speak about it without wanting to throw up.

"How about Aloysius?" he said one night as they were walking home from the diner, his arm around her waist as she leant on his shoulder. It was something he'd started doing whenever he could see that she needed cheering up, suggesting increasingly outrageous names to make her laugh.

She was exhausted after working a twelve-hour shift, but she still managed a smile for him. "I am not naming my baby Aloysius, Jack," she told him, feigning indignation at the idea. She liked hearing what he came up with, even if she was pretty sure he cheated and looked them up; the best so far was Grissel for a girl, which still brought a smile to her lips whenever she thought of it.

"Balthazar?"

She wrinkled her nose in disdain. Balthazar Austen; it sounded like a character in a bad sci fi movie. "Ew, no. What else've you got?"

"Hildegarde for a girl."

As much as she enjoyed playing this game with him, Kate couldn't help feeling disappointed; part of her wished that one day he would come up with something that she fell in love with, so that everything slid into place, and the baby became as real to her as it was to him.

"Where are you even getting these from?" she asked, giving him an incredulous look to cover the change in her mood. She didn't like sharing these dark thoughts with him when he was trying so hard to make her happy. "What's wrong with David or Hannah or something normal like that?"

He grinned, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to the top of her head. "Says the girl whose name is Kate. Didn't you ever wish you had a more interesting name as a kid? Like, say, Mehetabel?"

She slapped his arm feebly without lifting her head, but they were both laughing. "You're not naming the baby, Jack, so forget it. I'm not going to have a little Mehetabel Austen running around. I'm not even sure that's how you pronounce it."

He pretended to be wounded by this comment. "Okay, Katherine," he said, as if to remind her again of how boring her own name was, "if you think you can do better, what do you suggest we call it? Because I'm still pulling for Balthazar."

Normally Kate would have hit him again for being smart, but she was too busy turning his question over in her mind. What would she call it? She'd been so busy trying to escape the reality of her situation that she had no idea. She'd never been one of those girls who spent their childhood picking names; until two weeks ago, the idea of becoming a mother was about as foreign to her as the idea of being a doctor.

She opened her mouth to tell Jack this, but closed it again when, turning into her street, they saw that it was choked with police cars, news trucks, and an ambulance.

"What do you think's going on?" she asked him, her hands hovering over her mouth as they watched the paramedics roll a covered stretcher into the back. Her building was cheap compared to a lot of places in New York, so there were a lot of old people living there; normally, if she'd seen an ambulance parked outside, she would have assumed it was for one of them, but that was hardly a matter for the police.

Jack frowned, slipping his arm out from around her. "Wait here," he ordered in a tone that didn't beg arguing with, weaving his way through the crowd.

She watched as he approached one of the officers, holding a hurried conversation, his expression taut when he returned to her side. "Come on," he said, taking her arm again, "Marc won't be coming home tonight, so you can sleep over at the dorms. We'll come back for your stuff tomorrow when everything's settled down."

"When what's settled down? What's going on, Jack?" she asked, growing agitated by his need to shield her from whatever was happening.

He sighed, letting go of her when he saw that she wasn't going anywhere until he filled her in. "There was a break in, about an hour ago, on the floor above yours. An old man was beaten to death. The police aren't sure it was random – his nephew was a known drug dealer – but still, I'm not comfortable with you staying here tonight."

She opened her mouth, to tell him he was overreacting, but he gave her a serious look, cutting her off. "In fact, I'd feel better if you started looking for a new place."

* * *

Before you all start speculating, the break in had nothing to do with Wayne! It was just a way of illustrating how unsafe Kate's neighbourbood is, and how it's really not the best place for a baby... 


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks for your insightful reviews – a lot you guys hit on issues that are going to become very important in upcoming chapters.

Stun04 – you're right, Jack is putting a lot of pressure on Kate to keep the baby, and that is something I intend to address…

mcanj25 – the move does signal a progression in their relationship, one that is likely to affect Jack's grades (sorry midnight-sk8r! Grey's – although you do get your wish in this chapter!). (I got the names from an old Reader's Digest encyclopaedia, by the way. It's from the sixties, so some of them are God-awful!)

EternalConfusion – off topic, I know, but I totally agree, only I think Sawyer should be the one knocking sense into both of them, once he gets sick of playing games with Kate!

* * *

Chapter 17. You Will 

Jack expected Kate to put up a fight, but the break in must have scared her, because she followed him to the subway without another word.

When they reached his dorm, he leant her a t-shirt to sleep in, and after showering, she crawled into the twin bed beside him. There wasn't much room, but Jack couldn't say he minded, because it gave him an excuse to hold her in his arms. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, one leg thrown across his, her head on his chest, her soft curls tickling his chin.

The next morning, he took her back to her building as promised, and, after threatening to bring in a lawyer, managed to convince her landlord to let her break her lease. She was right, he was a scary-looking guy, but he was too afraid of losing his livelihood to risk retribution on either of them.

She didn't have much stuff, just enough to fill a few small boxes, so they stashed it in the corner of his dorm room, and for some reason, a week later, it still hadn't moved. He knew Kate wanted to leave, that being there made her uncomfortable, but he could never bring himself to encourage her: he liked eating with her, sleeping with her, waking up with her in his arms, being with her every minute of the day, not just the waking ones. He was pretty sure that meant he was in love with her, but he was too afraid to let her in on this fact in case she freaked out and tried to dump him again.

She was tired most of the time now, so they didn't go out much; when she wasn't working, and he wasn't studying, they would lay together on his bed, talking, or kissing, or watching DVDs on his computer.

A couple of times, he'd let her take his shirt off while they were making out, and once or twice, he'd been bold enough to rid her of hers, but he never allowed things to go further than that; every time she reached for his belt, he flashed back to the night of the party, and the things that she'd said, and he began to worry that she really believed them.

The end of Kate's first week at the dorm also marked the end of the second month in her pregnancy; he'd studied reproduction earlier in the year, so Jack knew that at eight week's gestation, her baby would've just entered the foetal stage. It would now be around 1.2 inches long; lifting her shirt, tracing the curve of her stomach, he would try to reconcile the pictures in his textbook with what was happening inside her.

"I still can't believe there's a baby right here," he said one night as they were curled up together, pointing to the spot where he thought it must be. In the weeks they'd been dating, he'd helped her get her weight up to a more reasonable level, but the skin was still firm and flat, showing no outward sign of her pregnancy. Aside from Kate, Jack was the only one who knew; Marc couldn't seem to understand why she was shut up in the bathroom every morning when he came home to take a shower.

She squirmed at his touch, suppressing a giggle as she pushed his hand away. "You're telling me – I keep wondering if it can hear me." Her eyes darkened as she stared down at the bedspread. "I hope not. All that stuff I said…"

Jack took her hand gently, squeezing it as she trailed off. "I think you're safe – it doesn't even have ears yet," he told her, eliciting another little smile.

"Really?"

"Uh huh, not until the forth month, just two little dimples on the sides of its head."

She looked back up at him, curious now. "What else does it have?"

Jack thought back to his anatomy class, trying to remember the diagrams he'd seen. "A tail," he told her, causing her to laugh again.

"You're making that up."

"No, I'm not – it really does have a tail," he argued, laughing too. "It will for at least another month. I can show you pictures if you want."

"No, that's okay, I believe you," she said, and Jack saw another flash of something unrecognisable pass through her eyes. It looked like guilt; if he hadn't watched her throw up for forty minutes that morning, he might have believed that she'd terminated the pregnancy without telling him. As it was, he still couldn't be sure that she wouldn't. "So is that all? Just a head and a tail? Like a tadpole?"

Jack shook off these thoughts, enjoying the rare moment of peace. She was coming around, bit by bit, but still, it wasn't often that she wanted to talk about it, not in such concrete terms. "No, it has hands and feet now, and organs, including a tiny, beating heart. You won't be able to feel it yet, but it can move its head, and its whole body at once. They call it a startle, because it's not really voluntary."

She flinched at the word heart, looking sad. "When can I feel it?"

"You're about eight weeks in now," he checked, and she nodded, "so another ten weeks, maybe a little earlier," he explained; her face fell, and he could have sworn she was disappointed. It should have been something to look forward to, but once again, he had the sense that she wasn't planning to let things get that far. She still had at least a month before the clinic refused her; that was plenty of time for her to change her mind again.

"It's so weird that you know more about what's going on in there than I do," she said, letting her fingers linger over the spot he'd pointed to.

"It's my job – or it will be," he assured her, squeezing her other hand again.

"How's all that going anyway?" she asked, straightening her shirt, seizing the opportunity to change the subject. "It feels like all we ever talk about is me."

"Well you have a lot more going on at the moment," he said, to show her that he didn't mind, but she frowned.

"Still, I like hearing about school. It's a nice distraction."

Jack sighed. That was the one downside to having her on campus; he couldn't keep that part of his life separate from her anymore. "There's not much to say. I go to class, I study – it's boring."

He should have told her that he'd gotten a B minus on his last paper, after writing it the night before it was due, but she had enough to worry about without him adding to it. Besides, he really was okay about it; lately, things like that didn't bother him as much as they once had.

"When're your exams?" she pressed, seemingly unsatisfied with this answer. "They're coming up soon, right?"

"Next week."

Jack closed his eyes, sighing when she freed her hand from his, sitting up abruptly. "You've got exams next week, and you're all of your time with me? Jack."

"It's okay, I can handle it," he said, irritated that she was making such a big deal out of it.

"No, you can't handle it. No one can handle it. You need to study, Jack." She frowned, massaging her temples with her fingertips. "I think it's time I got my own place again – that way, I won't always be around to distract you."

Jack pried her hands away from her head, pulling her back down onto the bed with him. "I like having you around to distract me," he told her, grinning when she smiled in spite of her anger. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, laying his head down beside hers. "But if it's important to you, I'll study more – just don't go yet. And don't stress about it, it's not good for the baby."

She gave him a tiny smile, forgiving him, and he kissed her again, drawing her closer as the kiss grew more passionate, but before he either one of them could initiate anything more intimate, they were interrupted by a groan. Pulling away, Jack saw Marc standing in the doorway, looking exasperated.

"Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?" he said.

Flashing Kate an apologetic look, Jack followed his friend out into the hall. "I thought you were going out?"

Marc crossed his arms. "I was, I just came home to get changed, and I have to say, man, I'm sick of feeling like I'm crashing someone's honeymoon every time I do."

Jack could feel himself getting annoyed now. It was okay for Marc to bring random girls there to have sex, but not for him to spend time with the girl he loved there. "I thought you were okay with Kate staying here?"

"For one night. It's been a week. Can't you find somewhere else to have you little love nest? Somewhere that's not my dorm room?"

"So you're saying you want us out?" Jack checked.

"No, I'm saying I want _her_ out, but if that's what it's gonna take, then yeah, I want you to leave too." Marc let his hands fall to his sides, softening once he realised what he'd said. "Look, man, I'm sorry – I don't want your girlfriend out on the street or anything – but could you please give me some kind of sign next time? A sock on the doorknob or whatever? Just so I know not to come in."

"What?" Jack frowned once he realised what his friend was talking about. "We weren't—"

"I know you're not a first date kind of guy, and I respect that, but you've been with the girl for a month now, man – she sleeps in your bed. Like I'm going to believe you're not doing it."

He gave Jack a knowing smile, and Jack sighed. "Whatever. I promise to give you a sign next time we plan on "doing it"."

Seemingly oblivious to the irony in his tone, Marc slapped him on the back. "Great." He looked awkward as he added, "So, I'm just gonna go now, and let you two get back to it."

Jack shook his head as he watched his friend retreat, letting himself back in the room to find Kate perched on the edge of the bed.

"What was that about?" she asked as he sat down beside her, processing what Marc had said. He was right, they would have to get out of his way soon, especially now that it looked like they were keeping the baby, but as for the rest?

He laughed at the absurdity of the conversation. "Marc thinks we're having sex. He wants me to give him some sort of sign so he doesn't interrupt us."

He expected Kate to laugh too, but she stared down at the carpet, her voice timid as she asked, "Why aren't we?"

Jack looked at her, surprised. "What?"

"Why aren't we having sex?" she repeated, her cheeks colouring slightly as she continued to study the floor. "The night of the party, when I told you wanted to, you didn't deny it, you said, "Not now, not like this". Was I right? _Do_ you want to? Because every time I think you do, you change your mind."

Jack stood up, running a hand over his hair as he felt his own face flush. "This isn't really a conversation I want to be having now, Kate," he said, "especially with the baby and… everything. Can't we talk about it some other time?"

"What's wrong with now?" she pressed, looking up at him for the first time since she'd begun the conversation. "I mean, he's right, he interrupted something – I want to know what it was."

Jack was beginning to feel trapped. He didn't know how to explain his hesitance to Kate without reminding her of what happened with her stepfather. "I just – there's no rush, okay?"

"Yes, there is." Her voice was so firm all of sudden that he couldn't help but look at her; there were tears in her eyes as she choked out, "There is a rush, Jack. I don't want my first and only experience to be like _that. _I want to know what it's like to be with someone I love, like you're supposed to the first time. Someone who loves me – who won't just zip up his pants and leave when it's over…"

She sounded so vulnerable and hurt that it almost broke his heart when she added, "I just don't understand why you won't let me have that."

It took Jack a moment to understand what she was saying, and then he sat back down, taking her hand. "I'm sorry, I guess I never thought of it like that," he told her, bringing it up to his lips so that he could kiss it, making her smile through her tears. "But you're right, I do love you, and I want you, just not tonight, not in a dorm room, where someone could walk in on us at any minute. When we find you a place, and we can be alone, you will. We both will."

* * *

That said, I am now more nervous than I imagine both of them to be, since I hate writing sex scenes... 


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks so much for your words of encouragment, although I'm not sure if I feel better or worse now! ;) It's a lot of pressure! (I think I'm going to be so embarrassed checking the reviews...)

In answer to your question mcanj25, yeah, I do get a little uncomfortable, but it depends how graphic it is. I can read it, I just can't seem to envision it, which is why I'm still trying to figure out how to approach it in my story. So if anyone has any ideas (tasteful and sweet though, with an emphasis on the way they feel about each other)...

You're right, Christian will be along shortly, and it will be to give Jack a kick up the backside. I can't imagine he's thrilled about the idea of his only son slacking off at college so that he can play house with pregnant white trash waitress (the hypocrite, although I'm not sure I'll get to that)...

Could you really call Kate a virgin, by the way? Emotionally and psychologically, yes, but physically, not so much...

* * *

Chapter 18. Strictly A Financial Arrangement

Jack had promised her that he would study more, but so far, Kate was yet to see proof of that. The following day, he brought his books to the diner, spreading them dutifully over the table, but they remained untouched as he trawled through the paper, circling apartments for them to look at when she got off work.

She wished she could believe that his eagerness to get her out of the dorm was only due to the other promise he'd made her, but she knew that it was more than that. His position had changed after he came in from talking to Marc; he wouldn't tell her as much, but she knew his friend must have complained about her spending so much time there. She couldn't say that she blamed him; she was becoming a burden to them, both of them, her and the baby Jack wouldn't let her take out of the equation.

She knew she shouldn't listen to him, that he had no right to tell her what to do, but she was so confused, it was easier to let someone else make the decision for her. He seemed so sure; she kept hoping that some of his confidence would rub off on her, but it had been almost a month, and mostly she was just scared. No matter what he said, she really was alone in this: she was the one who was pregnant, the one who would be giving birth, the one who would be left holding the baby when the novelty wore off, and he decided that fatherhood wasn't what he wanted after all.

And even if that never happened, and he stayed: what then?

They couldn't live off his parents forever, not until he became an intern and started getting paid. Unless he could find a way to take the baby to class, he would have to get a job so that she could stay home; either way, he would lose his focus and his grades would begin to slip, if they hadn't already. He would flunk out, and it would all be because of her, and a baby that would never really belong to either of them, not like any others they went on to have together.

It was enough to make her want to run to the clinic and take care of it before he could talk her out of it again, but she felt like she would be betraying him in some way if she did, because the baby was more his than Wayne's now.

Sometimes, she even felt like it was more his than hers, because he wanted it, and she still didn't. She felt a sense of ownership over it, that it belonged to her, but she was yet to melt into a warm, mushy puddle thinking about it, and she was beginning to doubt that she ever would.

Not that she was ready to tell Jack that.

She was only working a half day that day, so after she finished work, they went into the city to check out the apartments Jack had listed. It was fun for a while, trying to imagine herself living in them, until she began to look at the prices; when she saw what people were charging for a place that wasn't located in a slum, reality set back in, and she remembered that she was a knocked up teenage waitress with a bank balance well below zero. Then she felt sick, though that could have been the morning sickness, which no longer seemed to be confined to a particular time of day.

By the time they reached the last one on the list, she was tired, and thoroughly depressed. It was perfect: fully furnished, with one bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen and living room, little more than a block from Columbia, but the rent was more than she made in a week, so it was definitely out of her price range.

"This place is great – I can see why you chose it – but I can't afford it," she said, sitting down on the bed with a sigh when the real estate agent left them alone to discuss it. She was pretty sure the woman was listening outside the door, under the pretence of inspecting the living room, but she was too disheartened to care.

"You could if you had someone to share it with," he agreed, dropping down onto the edge of the bed beside her.

"Like a roommate?" she asked, feeling her spirits lift slightly. Maybe sharing an apartment wouldn't be so bad, especially if it meant having hot water and functional locks. "Do you have someone in mind?"

"Yeah, me."

She looked at him sharply, half convinced that he was trying to be funny, but his eyes were deadly serious. He was really suggesting that they move in together. "Jack–"

"I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out, okay?" he said, holding a hand up to silence her.

She closed her mouth again, listening sceptically as he went on. "School's about to shut down for the summer, and since I'm not going home, I'm going to need somewhere to live. I could get an apartment, but this makes more sense."

She shut her eyes, replaying his words in her head, trying to figure out whether or not it was as innocent a suggestion as he made it sound. She decided that it wasn't, not if it was coming from him. "I don't know, Jack – it's a big commitment. These last few days have been great, but I'm not sure we're ready to live together full time."

He gave her an incredulous look, as if what she was saying really was ridiculous. "We're having a baby."

"I'm having a baby," she corrected him, feeling the need to remind him that it didn't really have anything to do with him. He got so carried away sometimes, she wondered if he forgot. "You're helping out. There's a difference."

"Not to me."

He was so earnest about it that she couldn't help softening towards him. He really was too good to be true; there weren't many guys his age that would ignore this distinction. "Jack, I—this is all happening so fast," she said carefully, doing her best to plead her case without hurting him. "I just don't want to wake up one day and find it's a mistake."

"You won't." He took her hand, doing his best to sound casual as he added, "It's only for a few months. We can try it, see how it goes, and if it doesn't work out, I'll go back to the dorms when school starts again. It'll be fine, I promise."

She wasn't sure it would work that way, that they could just take a step back as if nothing had happened, but for some reason, she still wanted to try. She didn't want to go back to the way things were, alone in her tiny apartment, with too much time to think about things she'd rather not.

"Okay," she agreed, before her cautious side could win out. "Okay, but you're sleeping on the sofa. And we halve everything – rent, utilities, food, everything. This is not going to turn into some kind of de facto relationship – it's strictly a financial arrangement."

She saw a flicker of disappointment pass through his eyes at the idea that they really would be roommates, in the most literal definition, but he covered it with an impish grin. "A financial arrangement, huh? So I guess we won't be having sex then?"

He was only half serious, but she couldn't deny the fact that it was a valid point, since he was right, that was where things got complicated. If she could just get him to translate this concern into an acknowledgement of the need for boundaries, then maybe they could still make this work. "Not if you don't agree to those terms."

He made a show of considering this, before sighing and holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "You drive a hard bargain, but I agree to your terms. You're just lucky you're pregnant, though, or I'd have to ask why you get the bed, and I get the couch, since this way your idea."

Kate gave him a smug smile. "So that's a yes?"

"That's a yes."

She held out her hand, and they shook on it. "Good. Now can we please just sign the papers and go? I think I'm going to start puking again, and I don't want to ruin our new carpet."

* * *

But will Jack stay on the sofa? And will Kate enforce it, or is she right, will in turn into a pseudo-marriage? 


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks for your words of encouragement -- they actually helped a lot. I decided to go fairly conservative here, so I'm sorry if anyone is disappointed, but as a writer (and often a reader or viewer), I just can't bring myself to break in on an intimate moment like that, as weird as that sounds...

No, I'm not anti-abortion, mcanj25, my views on that subject fluctuate depending on the situation. Personally, I don't think people should be stupid enough to get pregnant if they don't want a baby, given the options we have now, but in Kate's case, I think she does have that right.

* * *

Chapter 19. Not So Scary 

The previous tenants had long since left the apartment, so they took over the lease right away, and within a few days, Kate was moved in. Jack still had exams, so she wouldn't let him join her until the following week, when she could be sure that she would no longer be a distraction.

They celebrated the move by making dinner together, like they had on their first date, only this time Jack didn't have to be stealthy about touching her, sliding his arms around her waist as she stood at the bench, and sneaking kisses while they waited for the oven to heat.

He was too nervous to eat much though, remembering the promise he'd made her; they hadn't talked about it since the day they signed the lease papers, so he wasn't sure how long she wanted to wait after moving in.

He could have asked her, but he was afraid of putting too much pressure on her, in case she wasn't really ready, so he wanted for her to bring it up, or give him some sort of sign that tonight was the night.

She didn't mention it at dinner, or while they were cleaning up, or even when they were curled up watching TV, so when midnight rolled around and she still hadn't said anything, he took this as a sign, and extricated himself from her gently, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "I should go."

He expected her to agree, but she pulled him back down, giving him a meaningful look. "You don't have to, you know. You could stay the night." He could tell she was nervous; her voice was shaking slightly, making it clear that she wasn't suggesting another sleepover.

"On the sofa?" he checked, just to make sure that he wasn't reading too much into her words. She'd asked him to stay the night before, and it had all been completely innocent.

Except that it wasn't this time. "No. In my room," she clarified, sitting up, twisting her hands in her lap as she waited for him to say something.

Jack realised he was staring, so he shook his head to snap himself out of it. "Tonight? Are you sure?"

A flicker of disappointment passed through her eyes at his hesitance. It obviously wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting this time. "I thought that was what we agreed?"

She looked so vulnerable, so afraid of being rejected again, that as concerned as he was about the emotional toll it could have on her, Jack couldn't think of another excuse not to follow through on his promise. He'd given her time. They were alone. He loved her. And it was what she wanted.

There was, of course, the baby, but he'd checked it out, and it was safe, so he didn't think now was the best time to be bringing it up. "Yeah, I guess it is."

She switched off the TV, and with a shy smile, pulled him up off the couch, leading him into the bedroom. She stopped by the bed, letting go of his hand, but that was as far as they made it before the awkwardness set in again, and they stood, staring at each other, not quite sure how to continue. Jack was pretty sure that they both knew what to do, and normally, the heat of the moment would have been enough to carry them through it, but they weren't in the heat of the moment.

"So how do we do this?" Kate asked, clearing her throat after a moment, her cheeks pinking slightly.

It would have been cute, if Jack weren't equally embarrassed about his own inexperience. "I don't know," he confessed, feeling his own face turn the same colour.

Her eyes widened with surprise. "You've never…? Wait – are you a virgin?" she asked, realisation dawning on her.

He stared down at the carpet, his cheeks turning even redder. "No, I just… okay, yeah, I'm a virgin."

She looked even more incredulous at the fact that he'd admitted it, though as soon as the words left his mouth he wished he hadn't. "But you're a guy!"

"So?"

"So I thought most guys wanted to have sex the minute they turned seventeen."

It didn't look like anything was going to happen for a while, at least until she got over the shock of this being as momentous an occasion for him as it was for her, so he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I think Marc did," he told her with a grin. "No, wait, he was sixteen. He wouldn't shut up about it for weeks."

"So how come you waited so long?" she asked, perching beside him, and he felt himself begin to relax. It was just them, just Kate.

"I don't know. I guess, as unmanly as it's going to sound, I didn't want my first time to be drunk, at a party, with some girl I hardly knew."

He didn't realise what he'd said until it was too late; she cringed, looking away from him. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's okay," she cut in, giving him a bashful smile, "I deserved it. I should've known you weren't going to be one of those guys." She fell silent for a moment, processing this information. "So it's a big deal for you too. Is that why you keep making excuses? Because you're scared?"

It would have been easier to admit that she was right, at least in part, but the masculine part of his brain rebelled. "I'm not scared."

"Yes you are." She looked amused, and he realised that in spite of his brave words, she saw right through him. He was scared.

"Aren't you?"

She stopped smiling, her eyes leaving his as she stared down at her lap. "Yeah, but then I have something to be scared about."

He wanted to reassure her, so he nudged her chin gently, forcing her eyes back to his. "No, you don't," he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. "It won't be like before, I promise. I won't hurt you, Kate."

She squeezed back, giving him a small smile. "I know. That's why I wanted to do this with you."

"Still, if you're not ready—"

"I am. I want to do this. I _need_ to do this."

"You're sure?" he asked, giving her one last chance to back out.

She must have been getting nervous again, because she took a deep breath, grinning at him. "I'm sure. Now just kiss me already."

Returning her grin, he did, easing her back against the pillows when he could feel her growing impatient. She pulled him down on top of her, and with one last look to her for reassurance, he began removing their clothes, his hands fumbling over hers as she helped him.

* * *

It was all over at lot faster than he would have imagined, but still, Jack could safely say that that night was the best of his life. He'd heard all the clichés about sex, how it was about expressing something, how it brought couples closer together, but he'd never really believed them, not until, lying with Kate in his arms, afterwards, tracing the curve of her bare back, he realised that he was maybe more in love with her then than he had been an hour ago. 

She was so still, except for the soft breath he could feel on his chest, that he was almost certain she was asleep, until he tilted his head enough to see that her eyes were open, staring off into space.

He couldn't read her expression, and that scared him more than the anticipation. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hand freezing on her skin, suddenly afraid that he'd been right all along, that she wasn't ready for this, that all he'd done was make things worse for her.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said softly, giving him a tiny smile.

"Did I hurt you?"

Her smile grew a little wider. "No, you didn't hurt me."

Satisfied that he hadn't done her any further harm, he went back to stroking her back, pressing a soft kiss to her lips when she lifted her head to look at him. "Not so scary, huh?"

"No. Not that time." She kissed him again before replacing her head on his chest, her voice barely above a whisper as she added, "I love you."

She'd hinted at it before, like in the dorm, when she'd insisted that she wanted to be with someone she loved, but she'd never said it in so many words. Jack smiled. "I love you too," he told her, kissing the top of her head as she sighed and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

For some reason, I wasn't entirely happy with chapter 20, so I've added a few more lines here of there to make it flow better. You don't have to reread it unless you want to -- it's just me being obsessive. I'm a usually a fanatic drafter, so after I post something, I keep thinking of stuff I should have included...

* * *

Chapter 20. So Much For Separate Beds

The morning after they had sex for the first time, Kate woke to the sensation of Jack nuzzling her neck, whispering her name against her ear.

"Hmm?" she managed, opening her eyes slowly to find him propped on his elbow, leaning over her with a lop-sided grin.

"Time to get up." He reached down and swept the mess of curls from her face, his expression so full of affection that it made her heart soar with happiness. He loved her, he'd said so last night.

Shielding her eyes, she glanced over at the clock. It was almost seven; she had half an hour until she had to be on the subway. "Do we have to?" she complained, wishing she could just forget everything else, and bask in the warmth of his arms a little longer. It was a big day for them; they should be able to enjoy it, without reality forcing its way in.

"You don't, but I do," he said, disentangling himself from her when she tried to drag him back to her side of the bed. "I still have exams, and unless you want me to fail…" He pulled on his jeans, and with a slightly longer kiss than was necessary, slid out from under the covers.

There was no getting around the fact that they both had places to be, so she joined him in the kitchen, and they ate breakfast together before kissing again, and going their separate ways.

"See you tonight," he murmured against her lips as they parted on the sidewalk, and there was no denying that what would once have been an innocuous comment was now loaded with hidden meaning.

"Good luck," she told him as he released her, and she meant it; she didn't know how he thought he would be able to concentrate today when she could barely take an order without zoning.

She was too happy to care whether the coffee was too cold, or the fries were too salty, switching over to autopilot so that she could let her mind wander back to the night before. In spite of the lead up, the sex itself hadn't been that great; clumsy and quick, with neither of them knowing how to prolong it; but the part afterwards, where he'd held her and told her that he loved her, that was perfect.

* * *

The second time, that night, was a little better.

Now that they both had a clearer idea of what they were in for, there wasn't as much of a rush to get to the end; they spent more time kissing and touching beforehand, letting their hands rove over the contours of each other's bodies.

It was amazing to Kate, that something that had threatened to ruin her life could also give her pleasure, but Jack was so sweet and attentive throughout, so concerned about making it good for her too, that she felt loved and wanted in a way she'd never experienced before.

She'd meant what she said about separate beds, but somehow, Jack kept finding his way into hers, and she couldn't seem to muster the will to send him back to the couch, especially after they made love. So he stayed, and they went back to sleeping together, not just on the nights they had sex, but on the nights they remained fully clothed as well.

She knew she should remind him of the boundaries she'd set, before it really did turn into a kind of marriage, but she was having too much fun, especially now that he was living there too. In addition to sleeping together, they cooked together, cleaned together, bought groceries together, even showered together on occasion, now that the initial awkwardness of seeing each other naked had faded.

Marc had gone back to L.A. for the summer, so now that it was just them, the only time they left each other's company was during work hours: to help pay his half of the rent, Jack had taken an administrative job at a doctor's surgery not far from the diner. He hated it almost as much as she hated hers, but it was the only way that he could justify not going home to his parents.

* * *

By the time Kate reached the tenth week in her pregnancy, it was all but decided: in a little over six months, they would be parents. She still wasn't sure that it was what she wanted, that she wasn't just resisting definitive action for fear of hurting both herself and Jack, but with no more excuses, she had no choice but to give in to his wheedling and make an appointment to see a doctor at the clinic near the diner. It was just after twelve, so he was meeting her there on his lunch break, and finally, they would both see the baby.

Jack was running late, so they let her through first, and she sat on the table in the thin paper gown, staring at a foetal growth chart blue-tacked to the wall. This close to three months, her baby would have a face, complete with eyelids; studying the sketch in front of her, she couldn't help wondering if the eyes behind them had a colour yet, and if they would be blue and leering when they looked at her, like Wayne's. Somehow, she could never picture the baby taking after her.

Jack was out of breath when he came in, kissing her and taking a seat while the doctor took her blood pressure and measured her heart rate, asking her a lot of questions before finally telling her to lie back and lift up her gown. It was all a little hurried and impersonal, but Kate was relieved to escape the pleasantries. She didn't want to talk about names and gender preferences or how her family had reacted to the news; she didn't even particularly want to be there under the harsh fluorescent lights with all those half-formed baby faces peering down at her from the wall.

The whole experience was beginning to make her feel sick, not least of all because the detached way the doctor told her to lift up her gown reminded her of Wayne.

He poked and prodded at her for a few minutes, and she had to resist the urge to push his hands away, because they weren't tender and loving when they touched her, like Jack's, but the hands of someone who didn't care how uncomfortable he was making her feel. She wanted to tell him to stop, to get away, but she knew he wouldn't listen.

Jack seemed to sense her panic, even if he misunderstood the cause, because he crept over to her side as soon as the doctor finished examining her, taking her hand and giving her a reassuring smile. "We're almost there. He's just going to put some of that gel on your stomach, to make the wand move easier," he explained, talking her through the doctor's movements. "It'll be cold, but it won't hurt."

She offered him a small, grateful smile in return, flinching when the gel touched her skin. She wanted to put on a brave face for him, but the room felt really small all of a sudden, the air thick and suffocatingly dry.

She wasn't ready to look, so she squeezed her eyes shut as a picture appeared on the monitor. She could hear him telling her not to be afraid, that it was all okay, but she couldn't bring herself to open them, to see it, because that would make it all so much harder. Her behaviour was confusing him, she knew, she could hear it in his voice, but she kept them firmly shut until the doctor took the wand away, focusing on the warmth of his hand rather than the steady throb she knew must be the baby's heart.


	21. Chapter 21

Glad you all liked the last few chapters, even if they weren't as graphic as some of you might have hoped! ;) Jack's about to get a wake up call, now that Kate's starting to realise what she wants, or doesn't want...

* * *

Chapter 21. Two Weeks

Kate was silent for the rest of the appointment, staring morosely at the wall while the doctor issued them with a list of instructions, and a prescription for the vitamins she would need to start taking. She didn't even appear to be listening to what he was saying, so when he asked when she would be able to come in again, Jack chose a time for her, and thanking the doctor, led her out onto the street.

They still had some time before they both had to be back at work, so he offered to take her to lunch, but she just shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

It was like they'd taken another step back in time, to the morning after he'd discovered that she was pregnant, the morning she'd tried to break up with him.

He knew she was upset, but he couldn't understand for the life of him why; everything about the examination had been routine, the doctor nothing if not professional; so he pulled her down onto a bench, trying not to let his frustration show as he asked, "What happened in there, Kate? Why did you close your eyes like that?"

Seeing the baby up on the screen, how tiny and real it was, had left him in awe; while he knew her feelings towards it were complicated, to say the least, he'd expected a more positive reaction from her. It was, after all, her flesh and blood.

She looked up from the sidewalk, surveying him, her eyes wet and wounded as she shook her head again.

"I'm not a mind-reader, Kate," he pressed, unable to keep the irritation from his voice now that she was refusing to answer. She was looking at him like he was supposed to know, but how could he? He could count the number of conversations they'd had about the baby on one hand; most of the time, he talked while her face remained blank, suppressing any trace of emotion. He didn't know how she really felt about any of it, because she wouldn't let him. In spite of everything they'd been through together, she still didn't seem to trust him enough. "If there's something wrong, you're going to have to tell me."

She studied him for a long moment before saying, "I can't do this," her voice sad and defeated.

"Can't do what?" he asked with a sigh, wondering if she was actually going to give him something to work with this time. He was tired of having to push her for even the most basic response.

"This," she repeated, standing up, her voice rising shrilly as she waved her hands in the vicinity of her abdomen.

It wasn't much, but it was enough for Jack to know that they were definitely talking about the baby, or her pregnancy, or both. "You're scared, is that it?" he asked, still unsure as to what she was trying to tell him.

A vague nod of the head was all he was able to get out of her, so he added, "Scared about what exactly? Being pregnant? Giving birth? Being a mother?"

He was beginning to feel like they were playing some sort of game, like twenty questions, or charades, and not for the first time. He loved her, more than he'd ever loved another human being, but sometimes, he wished she would be a little more expressive with her feelings. Getting her to admit what was bothering her was like trying to get blood out of a stone. Especially when it came to the baby.

He knew he'd struck a nerve with her when tears began to trickle down her cheeks; he reached for her hand, but she jerked it away like she couldn't stand the thought of him touching her today. "The baby… it scares me," she managed to choke out, before a look of shame crossed her face and she stared down at the sidewalk, waiting for him to figure out what she meant by this.

In truth, it scared him too, but he wasn't sure that right then was the best time to admit it. She looked to him like he was some kind of authority on the subject; he couldn't shatter that illusion by telling her that he was just as lost in all of this as she was. The only difference between them was that he was trying, and she wasn't.

"It's okay – babies have that affect on a lot of people, especially the first time around," he told her gently, hoping that it was just standard baby jitters they were dealing with, brought on by the sudden realisation of how real their situation was. There was plenty of advice on coping with first time parenthood, even if it was unplanned; less on learning to love a baby you couldn't stand to think about, much less look at. If someone released a book like that, Jack would be first in line to buy it, but until that time, they would just have to muddle through this as best they could.

"No, you don't understand," she said softly, and he felt his heart sink. So he was right, she was still having second thoughts. Sixty-seventh thoughts by now: she was up and down like a yo yo most days, okay one minute, moody the next. He wished he could believe that it was all just hormones. "It scares me, but not in the same way it scares you. I can't… I can't care about it, the way you do. I want to, but I can't. "

"So what are you saying?" he asked, standing up too now that they'd gotten to the heart of the matter. "You still want an abortion?" He knew he had to right to be indignant, but for some reason, he still felt angry at being excluded from the decision making process. They were supposed to be a team, and yet she still didn't trust him enough to be honest with him, to tell him how she really felt.

"I don't know." She wiped furiously at her eyes as the tears began to fall harder, her cheeks colouring with shame.

It was as good as an admission that she did; Jack felt as if he'd been slapped when he realised that she'd never really changed her mind. The whole time she'd been asking him to describe the baby to her, and laughing at his lists of names, she was just humouring him. She didn't want the baby. She never had; not since that day she told him that it was a disease. "Well you've got two weeks to make up your mind," he spat, unable to contain his anger when he thought of all the sacrifices he'd made, and the ones he'd been prepared to make so that she wouldn't have to give up her child, when she was going to anyway.

"Don't you think I know that?" she shot back, and he regretted his words, seeing how conflicted she was. She hadn't been leading him on on purpose; she really didn't seem to know what she wanted when it came to the baby. Maybe that was why she'd listened to him when he insisted they could do this.

"I'm sorry," he said, softening towards her. "I shouldn't have said that." But when he reached out to comfort her, she pushed his hands away.

"Just go to work, Jack," she said, her voice cold as she turned on her heel and flounced in the direction of the diner, leaving him to wonder if this time, he'd pushed her too far.

* * *

Next chapter: a long awaited visitor (Not Sawyer! There will be no Skate in this story!)... 


	22. Chapter 22

Wow, I should write controversial stories more often! Thanks for your reviews, and don't worry, Jack is going to start to realise what he's doing to her with all this baby talk...

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Chapter 22. Home Truths

Jack didn't come to pick her up as usual, and Kate couldn't help wondering if it was because he was still mad at her, or because he thought she was still mad at him. She didn't want to go home, because she knew he'd be there, and that they'd have to talk, but now that they were sharing an apartment, she couldn't avoid him for long, so after sitting for an hour to work up the courage, she hopped on the subway.

He was sitting on the couch when she let herself in, staring at the TV, but she could tell he wasn't really watching, because he jumped when he heard the door open.

"God, Kate, I was worried – I thought you were going to take off again," he said, recovering himself as she kicked off her shoes and headed past him to the bedroom.

"Why would I? All my stuff's here," she called back as she unzipped her dress, preparing to take a shower. It annoyed her that he thought she was that immature, that she would run away again without a good reason.

"I don't know – I guess I was just scared. We've never had a fight like that before," he said, appearing in the doorway, looking strangely uncomfortable at the sight of her half undressed, even though it was nothing new to him these days. "You're taking a shower?" he asked, watching her pull a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt out of the dresser.

"Yeah," she told him, fighting the urge to laugh at how strained the conversation was. It wasn't really funny, more absurd; they were acting like strangers, after weeks of living like a married couple.

"Do you think you could come out here when you're done?" he asked, not moving from the doorway. "There's something I want to show you."

She didn't know what else to say, so she nodded, taking her clothes into the bathroom and closing the door. She was tempted to take a really long shower for the sole purpose of holding off the confrontation, but even though it was late, she knew he wouldn't go to bed until he'd said his piece.

He was on the couch again when she came out, fidgeting with a squarish envelope. Putting down the towel she was using to dry her hair, she perched on the arm, waiting for him enlighten her as to its contents. She was pretty sure she knew what it was that he wanted to show her, but a part of her hoped she was wrong. She couldn't deal with this now, not today.

Too bad, because she was going to have to. "I want you to look at this and tell me how you feel," he said, taking a grainy black and white picture out and handing it to her. "Honestly. Don't try to rationalise, just tell me exactly how it makes you feel."

She didn't want to play his game, but she knew he wouldn't give up until she did, so taking a deep breath, looked down at the picture. It was a still of the ultrasound the doctor had taken that day; she could just make out the baby's head, its spine, and the tiny tail Jack had described back in his dorm room. "Angry," she confessed, feeling her lips twist up into to scowl now that she wasn't trying to suppress it anymore.

"Why?" It wasn't disapproving like she'd feared; all he seemed to want now was to understand why she'd freaked out in the doctor's office.

Knowing that he was listening without judging this time made it easier for her to articulate her thoughts, the ones that had been circling her head in a sickening loop since she'd first begun to suspect that she was pregnant. "Because I shouldn't have to deal with this. I should be finishing high school. I should be getting ready for college. I shouldn't be making a decision like this when it wasn't my choice in the first place."

"What wasn't your choice?" he pressed, beginning to sound like a psychologist. It made sense; she figured he must've learned how to deal with situations like this somewhere in his doctor's training. Beside manner, she was pretty sure they called it. "Getting pregnant? Or what your stepfather did to get you pregnant?"

"That," she said, relieved that he was finally beginning to see where she was coming from, "what happened." Her voice softened, her anger fading slightly as she added, "I've been thinking about this a lot since we started having sex, and I realised that if we slipped up, and I got pregnant, it would be different. It would be our baby, so even if I didn't want it to begin with, I would still be able to love it. It wouldn't be easy, raising it at our ages, but I think I would still want to try."

Jack nodded, processing this, before asking in the same careful tone, "But you don't want to try now? With this baby?"

"Not in the same way." Kate stared down at the picture, tears stinging her eyes as she mentally traced each feature: face, hands, feet… from what Jack had told her, the baby would have a discernable gender by now, though it would be a few weeks before anyone could predict it without error. She still wasn't sure what she wanted; a girl, maybe, because there would be less chance of her taking after Wayne. "I want to, because it's mine, but even though all that other stuff will change, and we'll get older, and we'll figure it out, the one thing that won't change it how it got here. It'll always be his, and I'm afraid that because of that, I'll never be able to feel anything but angry, and I don't want to be angry anymore."

She couldn't hold back her tears anymore, so she let them fall, crying harder when Jack set the picture aside and enveloped her in his arms, pulling her into his lap. "I want to do all that stupid mom stuff, Jack," she sobbed into his shoulder as he stroked her hair, rocking them gently. "I want to cheer my kid on at little league games, and hang drawings on the fridge, and tell everyone how great he or she is, but the longer I wait, the more I start to think that those feelings are never gonna come."

* * *

She cried for a long time, slipping into a dreamless sleep once she wore herself out, waking the next morning to find herself in bed, alone. There was a note on the kitchen counter explaining that Jack had gone for a run before work, something she knew he did when he needed to think, so she made herself some toast, and sat at the table to wait for him.

It was still early, not quite seven, so she was surprised when she heard a knock at the door; she could only imagine the state Jack had left in that morning, so figuring he'd forgotten his keys, she opened it, coming face to face with a stranger, an older man in a suit.

His eyes widened when he saw her, registering her dishevelled appearance with what could only be considered shock. "I'm sorry, I must have written down the wrong number," he said, checking the piece of paper in his hand. "I'm looking for Jack Shephard – you don't know where I can find him, do you?"

As he tucked the paper into his pocket, the top of his sleeve slid down, exposing what appeared to be a very expensive watch. "You're his father – the doctor," she said, stunned. Jack hadn't said anything about his parents coming to visit. If he had, she might have bothered to run a brush through her hair, and change into something more presentable.

"That's right, Christian Shephard," he said, his brow furrowing his confusion. Or maybe it was suspicion. "And you are…?"

"Kate," she supplied, her heart sinking when he continued to stare at her blankly. "Kate Austen."

"You live here too, Kate?" he asked, his voice as emotionless as if he were taking a telephone poll. Cleary, Jack hadn't mentioned that he was living with a girl, much less his pregnant girlfriend.

"Yeah," she told him, unsure of what else to say now that she knew Jack had been less than honest with him. For whatever reason, he didn't seem to want his father to know the truth about their relationship, in spite of all his promises. It stung, but she wasn't going to undermine him. That would only lead to trouble, and probably another fight. "Jack went out for a run, but he should be back soon if you want to wait," she said, licking her lips nervously.

He nodded, so she led him into the apartment.

"Have you eaten?" she asked as he followed her into the kitchen, where what was left of her breakfast lay abandoned on the table. She wasn't hungry anymore, not now that she'd received confirmation that Jack was ashamed of her. It was one thing for him to tell his best friend that they were dating, but if he couldn't tell his parents…

"I'll have coffee if you're offering," he said, taking a seat. She saw his eyes darken with disapproval when, surveying the apartment, he noticed that there was only one bedroom, but he didn't say anything. Yet.

"You're not drinking it yourself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow when she handed him a mug, returning to her own seat at the table.

"No, I'm not a big coffee drinker," she lied, pushing her plate aside.

"That's a shame – the only thing better than a good cup of coffee is a bottle of Scotch," he said, taking an appreciative sip.

An awkward silence fell over them as he set his mug on the table, and Kate couldn't help wondering what was taking Jack so long. She didn't want to be alone with his father, especially when he didn't even seem to know who she was.

"So Kate," he began, turning his steely blue eyes on her, so different to Jack's warm brown ones, "are you at Columbia too? Because I don't think I remember Jack mentioning that you were in any of his classes."

Kate thought about lying, but she knew that Columbia was something of a family tradition; if she agreed, he would start asking her questions that the little Jack had told her wouldn't cover. "No," she confessed.

"But you are a student?"

"Not at the moment," she told him, wondering if it was worth mentioning that technically, she should have only just graduated high school. She wasn't sure how he'd feel about the age difference, so she decided to leave it.

"Oh." He drained his cup, settling back in his chair, seemingly at a loss for what to talk to her about now.

"I work in a diner," she told him, her temper flaring up at the idea that just because she wasn't in college, he thought she wasn't good enough to associate with his son.

He didn't seem to know what to say to this, so he excused himself, asking if he could use their bathroom. Directing him through the bedroom, Kate couldn't help noticing the way his eyes took in the double bed, which had clearly been slept in on both sides, the mess of male and female clothing strewn around the room, and any number of other signs that they were cohabitating as more than roommates. She knew she should have cared more about his reaction, but she was still too angry that Jack had lied about his living arrangements.

He gave her a polite smile when he returned to the table, but he didn't look happy; once or twice she thought she saw his eyes stray to her midsection, though she had to keep reminding herself that he was a doctor not a psychic, and she wasn't showing yet. There was no way he could possibly know that she was pregnant, was there?

* * *

Next chapter: Jack returns... 


	23. Chapter 23

Glad you all enjoyed Kate's confession and Christian's appearance. He and Jack have such a complicated relationship that it's a lot of fun to write. Especially once I realised that the reason Jack is so agressive towards his father is that he just wants some sign that he actually cares. He's an emotional guy, and Christian can be very cold...

* * *

Chapter 23. Advice 

The baby hadn't even been born yet, and already, Jack had failed as a father. It was a simple enough task: to make sure that it arrived whole and healthy in the world, but he couldn't even do that.

He'd failed, and now, he wasn't the only one suffering.

Kate was a mess; he'd hurt her more than he ever thought he could with the best of intentions. She'd cried for hours because of him, because he kept tearing stitches off a wound she'd spent the last two and a half months trying to heal.

He'd been so oblivious, so caught up in what he thought he wanted, that he'd never stopped to ask her, when she was the one who was pregnant. Instead, he kept pushing her, until he'd shamed her into suppressing how she really felt, and now they were both hurting because of it.

He wished he knew what to do, how to fix it, but he didn't, because as much as he wanted to be selfless in all this, he couldn't. He wanted the baby, to prove to himself and his family that he could do this, but if he let her go through with what he knew she wanted to do, he would never get that chance.

After circling the track at Columbia for almost an hour, he still wasn't any closer to coming up with a solution, so he decided to turn back, to check on Kate. She was still sleeping when he left, so he hadn't been able to gauge her mood, or find out whether last night had helped her at all.

She was up when he got home, but she wasn't alone like he'd expected; he entered the apartment to find her sitting at the table with his father, her lips turned down in a slight frown, the kind she got when she was trying to cover up how unhappy she was.

"Jack. Glad you could finally join us," his father said, standing when he saw him. He didn't come over though, a sure sign that he was angry, though his face remained cool and composed as usual.

"What are you doing here?" Jack couldn't help asking. He'd given his parents the address when he told them he was staying in New York, but he'd never expected them to use it, except to forward his mail. They never came to visit; it was always up to him to maintain his relationship with them.

"When my only son informs me that he won't be coming home for the holidays, I'll admit, I'm a little curious as to what's keeping him away," his father explained, his face betraying no trace of emotion.

It was civil enough, but Jack knew his father well enough by now to sense the hidden gibe; his parents' disapproval was too much for him to handle right now, on top of everything he was going through with Kate. "Well as much as I'd like to stay and discuss that with you, I have to get to work," he said, heading to the bedroom, signalling for her to follow. He wanted to talk to her alone, without his father butting in, to know what doubts he'd filled her head with while they were for him.

"Your mother and I haven't seen you in months – you can't take the morning off to catch up?" his father pressed, and Jack could feel himself beginning to lose his temper.

"When was the last time you took the morning off, Dad? Because I really can't remember."

He looked to Kate for back up, but whatever remarks his father made couldn't have been good, because she stood, crossing her arms, unwilling to spring to his defense. "You should do what he says, Jack. It sounds like you and your dad have a lot to talk about."

Before he could ask her what she meant by this, she stormed past him into the bedroom.

Pausing just long enough to note his father's amused expression, he went after her, watching helplessly as she tore off her clothes, banging around, slamming drawers, as she dressed for work.

"I get why you left out the part about us living together, and me being pregnant," she said, yanking the comforter up on the bed, and throwing the pillows haphazardly on top, "but when I answered the door, he didn't even know who I was. Did you tell your parents anything about me?"

"No," he confessed, relieved when she finally stopped moving and turned to face him with an angry scowl.

"Why?"

Why hadn't he told his parents about Kate? It was a good question. He wasn't sure how to answer, until he tried to imagine how the conversation would have gone once they started quizzing him on her background. "Because my entire life they've decided everything for me," he explained, "where I was going to go to school, what I was going to study, what hospital I was going to work at when I graduated. I just wanted something that was mine, something _I _chose. I didn't want them to interfere."

Her expression softened, and he thought she was going to let it go, until a thought occurred to her that made her eyes darken again. "Well what about me? When is it my turn? You're so busy trying to be a grown up that you've been making all of the decisions for me too, and I'm just supposed to go along with it."

Jack sighed, flopping onto the edge of the freshly made bed. "Is this about yesterday? The baby?" He wasn't going to broach the subject this morning, not unless she brought it up, but he couldn't help thinking that that was where this was coming from.

"It's about everything," she returned, running a brush through her hair in violent strokes. "You're always telling me what to eat, and when to work, and where to live – I feel like I can't even think for myself anymore."

"So you want to break up? For real this time?" he checked, feeling his whole body tense as he waited for her answer. He hadn't meant to order her around; all he wanted, all he'd ever wanted, was to take care of her.

"No, I just—I think we need to take a step back, give each other some space," she said, putting the brush down, and turning her full attention on him. "You need to go to L.A. and sort things out with your parents, and I need some time to think."

"But what about…?" His mouth went dry, and he couldn't finish the sentence, not when he already knew what she was going to say.

She wouldn't look at him as she tied her hair back, collecting her purse on the way to the door. "I'll call you when I figure out what I'm going to do."

* * *

Later that morning, instead of answering phones, Jack was sitting on a plane with his father, staring sullenly out the window as he thought of how he'd left things with Kate. 

"I'm sorry if my showing up unannounced caused problems between you and Kate," he said, breaking into Jack's thoughts, which only made him angrier.

"Are you?" he asked, turning to him, ready for a fight. "Because it seems like you can't wait to get me home so you can lecture me."

"Yes, Jack," his father said patiently, putting down the journal he was reading. "Believe me, ruining your life was not my intention."

"What was your intention, Dad?" he spat, knowing how juvenile he was being, but not caring now that Kate wasn't around to hear. "You thought you'd come to town and spy on me? Remind me of what a screw up I am? How I don't have what it takes to be as good a man as you?"

"I just want to know what's going on in your life," his father said with a sigh, signalling for the flight attendant to bring him another drink. By Jack's count, this would be his third.

"Well now you do," he snapped, wishing his father would engage, instead of numbing himself with more alcohol. He was in the mood for a fight; why was it that his father would never give him one? "I have a girlfriend who's beautiful and smart, and for the first time in my life, I'm actually happy, no thanks to you. She's probably not even speaking to me anymore."

"Need I remind you that it wasn't my decision to keep your mother and I in the dark," he said, accepting the glass with a smile, causing Jack to sink, disappointed, back into his seat. It was too much to hope for an emotional reaction from him, especially in such a public place.

"How long have you known this girl, Jack?" he asked once the flight attendant had disappeared up the aisle again.

Jack had gone back to staring out the window, but he looked at his father then.

"What?"

"You're living with her – it's a fair question."

"Long enough." It really wasn't any of his business, not when he didn't know the whole story.

"How long?" his father pressed, giving him a sharp look, apparently unwilling to give up until he got the truth. The whole truth.

Jack sighed. "Almost two months."

He expected his father to be angry or disappointed or something, but he didn't look all that surprised by this information. "That would've been my guess."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, feeling his anger return as he watched his father take another sip, to steel himself for whatever he was going to say.

"When I was at your place this morning, I went to use your bathroom, and you know what I found? Vitamin supplements – folate, iron, calcium…"

"You went through our medicine cabinet?" he cut in, indignant.

"I didn't go through your medicine cabinet, Jack. They were on the sink," his father explained, irritation creeping into his voice. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone again. "Now they obviously weren't yours, so I ask you – why would your girlfriend be taking folate among other things?"

"I don't know, Dad, you tell me, since you seem to have all the answers," he returned, knowing that he knew, but pretending that he didn't just to make him angrier.

"I know she's pregnant, Jack. I also know you're not the father."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I know you," he said, still in his reasonable tone. "I'm not so naive as to think you're not having sex, a boy your age, in a serious relationship. But you're smart enough to use a condom, unlike whoever the guy before you was."

There was no way his father could know the truth, not unless one of them told him, but Jack felt a burst of pure, unadulterated fury at his phrasing. Like Kate was one of those girls, the ones Marc was always going home with after parties. "So what're you saying? I should dump her because she's pregnant, before I bring shame on the family?" He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he fought the urge to tell him that the guy before him was her stepfather, and that it was exactly consensual. If nothing else, he was pretty sure it would get him to drop the subject.

"No, I'm saying you should tread very carefully in this. You need to think about your future, Jack." His father sighed, shifting to a different tactic. "Believe it or not, but I remember what it's like to be your age. You're at college, you're finally away from your parents, you meet a pretty girl, and you think you're in love. But it's just hormones. You've got your whole life ahead of you – I wouldn't want to see you throw it all away for some schoolboy crush."

"It's not a crush," Jack told him, hurt by how easily his father could dismiss the whole thing, as if he thought he would get bored with Kate and move on. "I really am in love with her."

He stood up, intending to escape for a while by going to the bathroom, or at least, pretending to, but what his father said next made him turn around and come back. "You're not even old enough to drink – what could you possibly know about love?"

"More that you," he spat, surprised by the venom in his tone. "You've never cared about Mom – you're always at the hospital, or with one of your 'special friends'."

His father looked like he wanted to hit him, but he settled for a warning look. "My relationship with your mother is none of your business, Jack."

"Yeah, well maybe my relationship is none of your business either."

He thought he'd finally gained the upper hand, until his father said, "It is while I'm still paying for your education. If you want to start footing the bill for Columbia on what you make at that surgery, then go ahead. But until then, the choices you make are my business, especially the ones that affect your studies."

Jack had nothing to say to that, no come back, so he returned to his seat, training his eyes on the California coastline as it came into view.

"That girl is trouble, Jack," his father continued, softening as he tried to sound empathetic. "She may not mean to be, but she is. I'm not going to issue you with an ultimatum, because you'll probably call me on it just to spite me, but I am going to advise – strongly advise – that you think very carefully before you go taking her problems on board."

"By 'problems', you mean the baby," Jack said, more as a statement of fact than to clear up this point.

"Yes, Jack, I mean the baby," he agreed. "You'll get all emotionally involved, because that's how you function, and then when it doesn't work out, you won't be able to cope. And it won't work out, because believe me, you have no idea what real responsibility is. I don't think either of you do."

* * *

Next chapter: Kate has some time to think, and then, in chapter 25, Jack gets the life-altering phone call... 


	24. Chapter 24

Thanks for the reviews. You're all right -- Christian does tend to get a bad rap, when really, he did the best that he knew how. He may have sucked as a dad, but he should never be put in same category as Anthony and Wayne, who were not only bad fathers, but bad people as well...

I do think Christian was drawing on his own experiences, although I'm not sure I'm going to bring up Claire, because that's a story in itself. I do have another idea though, one involving the Others, which will enable me to address that. It does involve the whole pregnant women arc though, which means babies (including a possible Jaby / Skaby), so you'll have to let me know if you've had enough...

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Chapter 24. Are You Happy? 

Returning to the apartment after a long day at the diner, Kate was struck by how empty it felt. She'd lived alone for a month before she even met Jack, but now that they were together, she wasn't sure that she could go back to being on her own.

It felt strange, knowing that he wouldn't be home any time soon, to remind her to eat, and to rub her aching legs as they curled up together on the couch; she'd wanted space, but now that she had it, she wasn't sure what to do with herself.

She wasn't really hungry, but she knew what he would say to that, so she took a tub of leftover pasta out of the fridge and planted herself on the couch. There was nothing on worth watching, just channels and channels of reality programs and crime shows, so she stared blankly at the screen, trying to process everything that was happening.

Jack hadn't told his parents about the life they had together, or the baby; his father had made that pretty clear. He said it was because they were always telling him what to do: what if that was the reason he wanted this so badly? Because he knew that they would try to keep him from having it?

It was the kind of textbook rebellion that only served to highlight the differences between them: Kate was in this situation because she couldn't go home. Jack just didn't want to.

Home.

The concept seemed almost foreign to her now; over the past few weeks, she'd come to think of home as wherever Jack was. He was her best friend, her family, the one other person that she knew she could count on.

The way she felt about him was almost enough to make her believe that together, they could do anything, but she still had her doubts, especially when she considered the fact that by having this baby, she would effectively be burning the bridge between herself and the home she'd had in Iowa.

If she had this baby, she really wouldn't be able to go home.

She tried to imagine herself showing up on her mother's doorstep in a few years time, with Wayne's son or daughter in tow. She could lie and say Jack was the father, if he was still around then, but her mother would never believe her; she'd pretend to, but she would know. She might even blame her for it, as if this was something she'd asked for, something she'd brought on herself.

Either way, things would never be the same between them.

She wished she could hate her for bringing him into her life, but she couldn't, because at the end of the day, she was still her mother, the only one she would ever have. As far as parents went, she wasn't the best – she probably wasn't even in the top fifty – but she loved Kate in a way that not even Jack could make up for.

Just thinking about her, Kate was overcome by the desire to hear her voice. It was almost three months since they'd talked, and already, she was beginning to forget what it sounded like, and how it made her feel.

Before she had the chance to analyse what she was doing, she picked up the phone, and punched in her old number, praying that Wayne wouldn't be the one to pick up.

She felt relief wash over her as a woman's voice answered, older and more harried than she remembered. "Hello?"

She was tempted to hang up, now that she'd gotten what she wanted, but she'd come too far to back out now. "Hi, Mom, it's me," she said timidly, tears springing to her eyes when she noted how simultaneously happy and sad her mother sounded when she said her name.

"Katherine? Where are you?"

She wasn't ready to answer that question, so she said, "I'm okay," hoping that that would be enough.

It wasn't. "Where are you?" her mother repeated, more forcefully this time.

"New York," she told her after a moment, figuring that that alone wouldn't be enough information to track her down. New York was a big place, filled with millions of people, and Jack was the only one who knew her real name.

"Jesus, Katherine," her mother said, managing to sound relieved, shocked and impressed all at the same time, "do you have any idea what went through my head when you disappeared like that? I thought you were dead."

I felt like it; I wished I was, she wanted to say, but instead she said, unwilling to apologise, "I had to leave, Mom. I couldn't stay."

There was an uncomfortable silence as her mother interpreted these words, and Kate knew that in spite of her feigned ignorance, she knew exactly why. There was no way she could've missed the signs: the lock Kate installed on her bedroom door, the increased amount of time she spent at the diner and friends' houses, her unwillingness to be left alone in the house with Wayne, especially at night.

"At least tell me you're not living in a shelter somewhere," she said finally, not asking her to come home, just like Kate knew she wouldn't. Her mother would never say as much, but somehow, she knew she was glad that she was out of his reach.

"No, I've got a job, and an apartment," she told her, grinning as she added, "I have a boyfriend too. He's a premed at Columbia." It was the kind of thing they used to talk about all the time; her mother could never understand why she had so many friends who were boys, and yet no boyfriend.

"Does this doctor of yours have a name?" she asked, her voice taking on a teasing tone, and for a moment, it was like old times.

"Jack," she said, feeling her smile grow a little wider when her mother repeated the name, sounding pleased.

"He treating you right?"

"Yeah, he's great. I wish you could meet him, Mom." The illusion was shattered as reality came flooding back to her, and they fell into another uncomfortable silence.

"Are you sure you're all right, honey?" her mother asked. "You seem a little… distant."

"Yeah, I'm just…" What? Pregnant? Trying to decide whether or not to keep your husband's baby? "…tired," she told her, the walls between them springing back up.

Her mother seemed to know that that wasn't all it was, because her words sounded hollow and unconvincing as she said, "You be sure to get a good night's sleep then. And don't work too hard." It was the same game they'd been playing since Kate was a little girl, avoiding anything that her mother didn't want to deal with, especially where it related to Wayne. He was the perpetual elephant in the room, the reason their relationship had never been anything other than strained.

Speak of the devil…

Kate heard the door slam open in the background, and a slurred male voice call her mother's name. "What was that?" she asked, though in truth, she knew. She could remember him calling her like that when he came home from the bar; his tone was still burned into her brain from her last night under that roof. It was never Kate, though, or Katie, or Katherine, but something vague and impersonal, like "girl", as if he couldn't even remember who she was.

"Oh, that was just Wayne," her mother said a little too brightly. "He popped out to the store a few minutes ago – must've just got back."

The only store Kate had ever seen him frequent was the liquor store; she was pretty sure he must've come from there or the bar. "I've gotta go, Mom," she said, wanting to sever the connection before he took an interest in the conversation in his drunken state.

"Already?" Her mother sounded disappointed. "You still haven't told me why you called."

She knew her mother wanted to know more about where she was living and what she was doing, but she could hear him getting closer now, and that made it hard to concentrate. "I just remembered something I've got to do," she lied.

"Okay then," her mother said, sounding defeated. Kate could tell she was hoping for an address, or a phone number, or some other way of contacting her, but she wasn't ready to face either of them yet, especially not Wayne. "You take care, honey. I love you."

"Yeah, me too." She took the phone away from her ear, her finger on the button, until mother stopped her.

"Katherine?"

Her voice was so sad, so resigned, that Kate couldn't hang up yet. Not until she'd heard her out. "Yeah?"

"Are you happy?"

It was a simple question, but there was so much history behind it: Kate could tell that her mother was really asking if her life in New York was better than the one she'd had in Iowa. If she should let her go.

"Yeah," she said, thinking of Jack.

At least I will be.

* * *

I thought it would be cool to bring Diane into the story, because she gets a bad rap too. She's selfish and she's weak, but she loves Kate. Unfortunately, she loves Wayne too, which makes it hard. My grandmother and mother have a similar relationship -- they've never agreed over my grandmother's second husband -- so I can empathise with Kate's regret over Wayne getting in the way... 


	25. Chapter 25

I'm guessing people still have exams! Here is the long-awaited phone call. I know some of you won't be happy with Kate's decision, but it was the only way I could see this ending...

* * *

Chapter 25. Raincheck 

Jack hated knowing that Kate was upset with him. He wished he'd thought to kiss her goodbye before she left, or say sorry, or something; he wanted to call her, but since he was supposed to be giving her space, he had to settle for lurking by the phone, waiting her to contact him.

He'd come back to L.A. to sort things out with his parents like she suggested, but so far, there hadn't been a lot of talking. Mostly there were just long silences and icy glares as they ignored him, until he went to hide out in his room after dinner; once he was out of the way, they'd gone into the study to blame each other for his recent behaviour.

They were too busy fighting to notice the phone, so Jack picked it up on the first ring, knowing instinctively that it was Kate. "Hey," he said, closing the door, and flopping down on his bed, settling in for a long chat. She'd promised to call him when she made her decision, but it had only been a day; part of him couldn't help hoping that she just wanted to hear his voice.

"Hey."

She took a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself, and he could tell that she'd been crying. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, taking another breath, her voice almost normal again.

She didn't seem to want to talk about it yet, so he steered the conversation into more neutral territory. "How've you been? What've you been doing? It feels like forever since I saw you." It had only been a few hours since they'd been together, but between his dad's visit, and their disastrous trip to the doctor, they hadn't had a normal conversation in days.

She was silent for a long moment. "I called my mom," she said finally, and Jack sat up, tensing.

"You told her?" he asked, afraid that that was why she'd been crying, that her mother had somehow accused her of provoking her stepfather.

She let out a bitter laugh. "No. What was I supposed to say?" At these words, he felt himself begin to relax, but he couldn't seem to get comfortable again. "We just talked. I told her about you," she added, and he could tell that she was smiling.

"You left out the part where I was a controlling jerk, I hope," he said, returning her smile.

He hadn't meant it as a joke, so much as a masked apology, but she laughed anyway. "Yeah. She asked if I was happy."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I was. And I am. I love you, I love our place, I love New York, I just don't love this baby – not enough," she added, her voice growing wistful, and he could imagine her touching her stomach, the way she always did when she was trying to figure out how she felt about the baby. "I feel like it's getting in the way, like it's the one thing keeping me from really moving on. I guess that that's what I was trying to say last night."

"So you've made up your mind?" he asked carefully, forcing the emotion out of his voice. "You still want to…" he tried to think of a euphemism, but it was all the same thing. There was no nice way of saying it. "…to get rid of it." It was such a callous expression, one Jack had always hated, but somehow, it made it hurt less.

"I want to finish high school, Jack, and go to college," she said, pleading with him to understand. "I want to go on dates, and to parties, and travel, and all that other stuff people our age are supposed to do. And then, when we're ready, I want to have a baby that's really ours – one that I can love the way it deserves."

He forgot his sadness for a moment as he asked, teasing her, "Are you saying you want to have my baby, Kate?"

She laughed, clearly embarrassed by how forward it sounded. "Not right away, but one day, when I've done everything else."

They fell silent, processing this, and Jack decided that as much as he'd like the idea of Kate's baby, he liked the idea of their baby even more.

"Are you gonna be okay with this?" she asked finally. "I know how much you wanted this baby."

He knew it would be a while before he would be, but he laughed to cover up his pain, reminding her of what she'd just said. "Guess I'll just have to take a raincheck."

She laughed too, but he could hear her getting teary again as she said, "I know it sounds selfish, but I feel like this is the only way to get my life back."

She really wanted him to understand, and as much as he wished he didn't, he did. "It's not selfish, Kate," he told her. "What that bastard did to you was selfish. You deserve the chance to do all those things."

"Thanks," she said, and he heard her sniff, fighting back tears.

"For what?"

"For not making me feel worse about this than I already do."

He wished he could be there with her, to comfort her, but since he couldn't, he decided to steer the conversation away from her guilt. There would be plenty of time for that when it was done, but right now, he just wanted to get the whole thing over and done with. Then they really could move on. "So have you decided when you're going to do this?"

"No. I wanted to tell you before I made an appointment."

"Will you wait for me? I want to be there," he told her, wanting her to know that as much as he hated what was happening, he would support her, like he should have from the beginning. "You're going to need someone to bring you home and everything anyway."

"Sure," she agreed. She was silent again for a moment, and then she asked in a small voice, "Jack? Is it gonna hurt?"

It was one of those questions that all the lectures and the textbooks in the world couldn't prepare him for, because he knew that it would, emotionally more so than physically. A lot of women went on to lead happy, guilt-free lives after choosing to end a pregnancy, but just as many never got over it. He had no way of knowing which side of the fence she would end up on. "Most places use some form of anaesthetic, so probably not," he said, giving her the diplomatic doctor's answer, the coward's answer. "It'll mostly just be uncomfortable."

He could tell that this wasn't what she was looking for when she asked, "What about the baby? Will it feel anything?"

"I don't know," he confessed, not wanting to lie to her when he knew that the information they gave her at the clinic would probably contradict him. It was better she learn the truth now, when she could still back out if she wanted to, then later, when it was too late to change it. "Some doctors say yes, some say no. There's really no way to measure foetal pain."

"What will they do with it? The baby?"

"They'll take it away – you won't see it," he told her, hoping that this knowledge would provide her some comfort, but he could hear her choke on a sob as she pressed, "And then what? They'll throw it away like a piece of trash?"

Jack knew that this was exactly what they were going to do, dispose of it along with the rest of the medical waste from the clinic, but he couldn't tell her that, not when she was already tearing herself apart over her decision, so he said, "Are you sure you want to do this, Kate? Because we can still keep the baby if you want, or put it up for adoption."

"No, I want to do this," she told him, resolute as she swallowed her tears. "I want to do this – I just didn't think it would hurt this much."

* * *

I think I have a vague idea of what she must be going through, because that was a difficult decision for me to come to to! Part of me wanted them to keep it, but I just couldn't see her cooing over the baby getting all excited... 

I've been reading up on abortion, and let me tell you, it's pretty icky stuff. Especially in the third trimester. There's one procedure where they inject poision into the amniotic fluid, and another where they inject it into the baby's heart, and another still worse one where they compress the baby's head before removing it (the baby, not the head). Very, very unpleasant...


	26. Chapter 26

Thanks so much for your reviews – I loved reading your opinions. I know some of you want Kate to keep the baby, or at least put it up for adoption – that's one of the reasons it's taken me so long to update, because I was considering changing my plan – but at the end of the day, I can't see her carrying to term. I think it would be psychologically damaging, not the least of all because it would prevent her from ever getting the closure she needs. (Would it be easier to accept if Wayne was her biological father? 'Cause he can be!)

And just to clarify – the Others have nothing to do with this fic. Since it's wrapping up (it will have a happy ending, don't worry!), I'm wracking my brain for new ideas. I've never done an on-island mythology story before, so I've started beating out one ties in with the pregnant women arc on the show. Unfortunately, that means more babies…

* * *

Chapter 26. Sad

Jack was supposed to be in L.A. visiting his parents, so he was the last person Kate expected to see walk into the diner the next morning.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips as he met her over by the window. "I thought you were sorting things out with your family?"

"You are my family," he told her, his voice husky as he set the tray she was holding down on the table and pulled her into a tight hug. "I love you."

When she met his dark eyes, they were full of concern; with a sigh, she sank into his chest, burying her face in the fabric of his t-shirt. "I missed you so much," she whispered, remembering how her heart had ached for him the night before, after she'd hung up the phone. She wanted to cry, to fall apart now that he was there to catch her, but she still had eight hours left on her shift. She couldn't afford to lose it. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back today?" she asked as she freed herself from his embrace, retrieving the tray to put some distance between them.

"I didn't decide until after we got off the phone," he explained, sliding into his usual booth as she finished clearing the table. "I couldn't sleep knowing you were alone on the other side of the country," he added, averting his eyes and fidgeting with the saltshaker, "so I convinced my dad to drop me off at the airport on the way to the hospital."

"That was sweet," she told him, eliciting a tiny, wry smile as he looked back up at her. "Was he okay with it?"

"Not really – I think he was disappointed – but he'll get over it. He knows about…" he trailed off uncomfortably with a slight nod in the direction of her stomach.

"I know – he must've figured it out," she agreed, thinking back to her encounter with his father the day before. It still seemed impossible that he could tell just by looking at her. "Did he tell you how?"

"Yeah." He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "He saw the vitamins on the sink when he went to the bathroom."

Kate almost laughed too, almost, but there was an ache in her chest that made it impossible to recapture the sense of joviality she would have felt on an ordinary day. He was trying to hold himself together, for her, but she could tell by the sadness in his eyes that it would be a while before he was that happy himself. "It that all? And here I was thinking he was psychic or something."

"Nope, just a surgeon."

The conversation died as they became conscious of the fact that they had stumbled onto what was now a taboo subject between them.

"I know I asked you this last night on the phone, but are you sure?" he asked softly, taking her hand off the edge of the tray and squeezing it, his eyes so intense as they bore into hers that she had to look away.

It was like he was trying to see inside her, to see the doubts she kept hidden even from herself. "I can't… I can't talk about this now," she told him, a lump rising in her throat as she fought back the tears she'd been fighting since he first walked in. It hurt too much to think about the baby, and what she was planning to do to it, and she didn't trust herself not to cry.

He nodded, kissing her fingers as he let them go. "Tonight," he agreed, picking up his menu, but he didn't order anything, staring pensively out the window while she went about her work.

* * *

He was still sitting there in his booth that evening, still staring, a deep line etched into his forehead, making him look ten years older than he actually was. He didn't talk much as they walked to the subway, or on the ride home, and Kate was afraid that he hated her, or at least, that a part of him did, the part that still wanted the baby.

"I'm sorry," she said again as he sat on the bed, watching her change out of her work clothes.

He shifted his gaze to the carpet, too late to keep her from noticing the way his eyes lingered on the bare skin of her belly before she covered it with a t-shirt. "You have nothing to be sorry about," he assured her, but there was something mechanical about the way he said it, as if he still didn't believe his own words.

"Then why do you look so sad?" she asked, sitting down beside him once she was fully dressed.

"Because I am," he confessed, sliding a hand under her shirt, and for once, she didn't try to stop him. "Because I saw it," he added, caressing her stomach gently. "I saw it, and it was alive, and in a few days it won't be."

She felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks at his words, and before she knew it, she was crying.

She was a murderer.

She was going to kill her own child.

What kind of mother did that?

"It's okay," he murmured, kissing her hair as he pulled her into his lap, shifting them back against the headboard. "It's not your fault. You need closure – I get that. It's just sad. This whole thing is sad. I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish it really was our baby."


	27. Chapter 27

I can't win, can I? I think I'm going to have to go with majority rules here...

What's this I hear about Jack saying "I love you"? I live in Australia, so I never seen anything unless it's on youtube. Why would he say it to Juliet? They've only known each other like two weeks...

* * *

Chapter 27. Noon 

Over the next two days, Jack had too much time to think as he sat in the waiting room of the women's health clinic he'd chosen. Kate had wanted to go somewhere lower key, where she wouldn't be required to attend counselling, or suffer through a cooling off period, but after explaining the risks – irreparable damage to the uterus and surrounding organs, sterility, even death – he'd offered to help her pay to have it done somewhere reputable, where the OR was clean, and the staff knew what they were doing.

He'd wanted to go in with her to see the counsellor, but she begged him not to, swinging the door shut in his face when he tried to follow her. He knew about the rape, but he supposed she didn't want him to hear the details; except that it had happened, they'd never discussed it before, and he doubted that they ever would.

The hour he spent waiting outside, watching women come in pregnant, or with their babies, was one of the worst of his life, not the least of all because when she left the office, she was puffy-eyed and silent, refusing to speak except to tell him that they were granting her request tomorrow at noon.

Granting her "request".

Tomorrow at noon.

It was so diplomatic, so euphemistic, it sounded like a death sentence, which in a sense, it was.

He wished there was something he could say to make her change her mind, if not about keeping the baby, then at least about giving it up at birth, but it was too late. The damage was done long before he met her; if it weren't for his protests, he knew she would never have made it past the sixth week.

He was beginning to wish that she hadn't.

That he'd let her do this before he got emotionally involved, like his father had assured him he would.

He was too anxious to sleep the night before they went back, and he could tell that she was too, her face pale, her lips drawn in a tight line, so they camped out in front of the TV, barely speaking as they stared at the screen. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better except "don't", but he couldn't, not now that she'd finally come to a decision, so he sat stroking her hair robotically as she curled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Every time he looked down at her, her expression was blank, her jaw set, but he couldn't help noticing the way her eyes teared up every time a diaper commercial came on, or they saw a mother and child together or anything else that reminded her of what she was giving up.

He didn't ask her again though, because he knew she would say yes either way. They'd come too far now to turn back now, or at least, he knew that was what she was telling herself; what she would keep telling herself until it was over.

The wait itself was so torturous that it was almost a relief when, just before twelve the next day, they walked into the clinic, and he delivered her into the hands of one of the doctors.

"Good luck," he told her as he gave her a quick, half-hearted hug, "I'll be here when you come out," because that was what you said to the people when they had surgery, however minor, but when she looked to him for reassurance, he couldn't find it in himself to give her much of a smile.

She was scared, and he hated himself for not being there for her, for not easing her fears, but for the first time since he'd discovered the pregnancy tests in her bathroom, he really wanted to run away. He knew he owed it to her to be supportive, but he wasn't sure he could sit there feeling helpless, watching the whole thing in his head.

When she saw that that was all that she was going to get from him, she cast her eyes to the floor, following the doctor down the hallway, through a set of double doors. He didn't see her again for an hour, until a nurse told him he could through to where she was resting.

"Hi," he said, approaching the bed where she was lying, still in the white surgical gown, staring at the ceiling. "Did you…? Did they…?" he trailed off, hoping by some miracle that she'd freaked out in the OR and stopped the procedure.

But he knew that she hadn't. It was over. "Yeah," she agreed with a sad smile as he sat down beside her. "It was a boy," she added, her lower lip trembling as she tried to hold back her tears.

"You asked?" He was surprised that they'd told her, given how much harder it could make her recovery.

"I had to know, so I didn't go through the rest of my life wondering," she explained, losing the battle. "I'm never gonna see him, or know if I could've loved him, but at least I know that."

He took her hand and squeezed it, wiping her tears away with his thumb as he asked, "Do you regret it?"

"Yes." She shook her head, biting her lip to stem the flow. "No. I regret that he existed, and how. I wish I could've been his mother, but it's better this way. He's never going to have to find out what happened, or how much I hated him for being here. He'll never have to feel like he wasn't good enough."

She was sobbing too hard to say anything else, so Jack wrapped his arms around her, careful not to move her too much. He could feel his own eyes tearing up at her words, and the obvious grief behind them. For all of the pain and the anger tied up with his existence, he was still her son. She had still loved him. "This might sound a little morbid," he told her, "but when people lose babies through miscarriages or stillbirths, sometimes they still name them, for closure. Now that we know it was a boy, maybe we could choose one for him. Then we won't have to keep calling him 'it' or 'the baby'."

"Okay," she agreed, pulling away. She ran the back of her hand over her eyes as she looked up at him. "We should call him Balthazar."

"Balthazar?" he repeated, incredulous. He'd only ever meant it as a joke. "You really want to name your baby Balthazar? What happened something normal like David?"

She smiled, hiccuping slightly as tried to keep from crying again. "I've been thinking about it, and you're right – every kid should have an interesting name."

* * *

If it makes you feel better, I was crying when I wrote this, particularly Kate's speech at the end... I know it's short too, but it was very emotionally draining. The last few chapters have been. 


	28. Chapter 28

I tried to update sooner, but the site was down…

I was really nervous about how the last chapter would be received, so I'm glad you all think it was done well. I wanted something tasteful and moving, rather than gory and melodramatic, which is why I opted not to have it happen during a Kate chapter.

I know Balthazar is a silly name, but I thought it worked in this context, given that it was a private thing between them. Since she didn't actually lose the baby, it felt too weird to make it something more formal…

There are only two more chapters left after this one, both from Jack's POV, which is breaking the formula, I know, but it fit better that way. I've written them both, so if you're good and review, I will put them up A.S.A.P.

By the way, I saw the trailer, and it was awesome!

* * *

Chapter 28. A Long Shot

When the clinic sent her home with Jack later that afternoon, Kate was confused at how empty she felt. She'd never felt her son move, never really noticed his presence, except for the basic pregnancy symptoms (which still persisted, even though there was on longer a baby to cause them), and yet it was like there was a hole inside of her now, not just in her body, but in her heart. She'd never wanted him, never really believed that she could, but now that he was gone, she realised that she had cared about him in some strange maternal way, at least the part of him that came from her. She hadn't really hated him; she just hadn't known how else to feel.

Even though it had been her choice, she couldn't seem to stem the flow of grief flooding through her at the knowledge that she would never meet him, or see him grow up; the pain was so deep, so primal, that she wondered if it would ever go away, if she would ever stop feeling like the only way to fill the void was with another baby. It was absurd, the idea of getting pregnant again at eighteen, on purpose this time; wasn't she the one who kept telling Jack that they were too young to be thinking about babies? Wasn't that, at least in part, what this was about?

But while she recognised that it would be stupid for them to contemplate parenthood again before Jack finished college, there was a part of her that she knew would never fully heal until she could hold her child and not be repulsed by it.

Their child, because she knew that she could never reject something their love had created, whether or not it was planned.

She was supposed to take it easy for the next few days to avoid complications, so Jack settled her on the couch with a blanket and pillows and all the usual paraphernalia, including tissues, though she didn't think she could cry anymore after hours of tears at the clinic. But while she felt okay in every other way now that the anaesthetic had worn off, she couldn't shut out the memory of the horrible sucking tool the doctors had used to end her baby's life. The counsellor had told her that nightmares and depression were common after an abortion, but she was awake, and she could still hear that sound, ringing in her ears, haunting her. She was almost afraid to sleep, in case her dreams forced her to relive the whole experience in detail: the sickening smell of disinfectant, the fear of what they were going to do behind that screen, the muffled voices of the doctors, drowned out by the whirring of that vacuum…

She must have zoned out some time after Jack sat her down, because when she managed to focus on him again, he was crouching in front of her, watching her with concern, waiting for her to respond to something he'd said.

She blinked at him, confused. "What?" She had to take a few deep breaths to slow her heart, because she was on the verge of a panic attack.

He put a gentle hand on her arm, frowning at her, the worry lines on his forehead deepening. "I just asked if there was anything else you needed. I can get you something to eat if you're hungry – whatever you want."

It felt like he was speaking to her from underwater, or somewhere far away; she had to process his words a couple of times before she could figure out what he'd said. "Later," she told him when she understood that he wanted to do something for her, something that would make him feel less helpless. She drew her legs up to her chest to make room beside her. "Will you just sit with me?" She didn't want to think about it anymore, and somehow, having him there always helped.

"Sure." He nodded, taking the space she'd just vacated, and she spread the blanket over his legs, shifting her position so that she could lay her cheek on his chest.

He didn't speak, but she could hear the steady thrum of his heart against her ear, filling the silence, reminding her that she wasn't alone.

She was, however, completely alone with him for the first time since they'd met; there was no baby, no Wayne, no more ghosts, just them and their future together. She had paid a high price, one she wasn't sure that she would ever fully recover from, but she had finally regained control of her life; she was finally free to do all the things she'd dreamed of, and to make something of herself in process.

"Actually, there is something you can get me," she said after a moment, causing him to look down at her expectantly. "Not food or anything, just… it looks like I'm going to have a bit of time on my hands over the next couple of days," she closed her eyes, trying not to think too hard about why, "and I don't want to spend it sitting around, feeling sorry of myself, so do you think you could get me some stuff to read about Columbia?" She opened her eyes again once the words were out, almost afraid to look at him, to see the scepticism written across his face.

"Columbia, Kate?" he repeated, pulling himself up straighter against the back of the couch, as if in preparation for an argument, or at least, a serious conversation. "You know I'd love to have you there, but isn't that jumping the gun a little? You still haven't finished the twelfth grade."

"I know," she agreed, moving off of him, wringing her hands nervously as she shared her idea, the one that had been lurking in the back of her mind since she'd first decided to go ahead with the termination, "but I've been thinking that I could apply to the school board, explain why I left, maybe get permission to retake my exams so I don't have to do the whole thing over. That way I could still start college in the fall, mid-year at the latest."

He nodded seriously, considering this, but when he still didn't look convinced, she added, "I know Columbia's expensive, but I was pulling straight As before I ran away – I could probably get a scholarship if I worked hard enough. Or I could try to find my dad, see if he'll help me. My mom never let him pay child support, so he's probably got the money stashed away in an account somewhere," she rushed on, feeling something like hope for the first time since she'd discovered she was pregnant. At the very least, the project would help keep her mind off the baby, and Wayne, and all of the other things she preferred not to think about; all the things she wanted to forget. The counsellor had told her that the best way to get over it all was to keep moving forward, and this was the best way she knew how.

"I think college is a good idea," he agreed finally, selecting his words carefully, as if afraid of offending her, "especially if you can convince them to let you resit your finals, but are you sure you want to try for Columbia? What about NYU? It's less competitive – you'd have a better chance of getting a scholarship."

"Probably, but then I wouldn't be near you," she told him, smiling as a slow grin spread over his face at the idea of them going to college together. "I know it's a long-shot," she added seriously, "but it couldn't hurt to look into it, could it? I've been dreaming about going to an Ivy League school my whole life – if there's even a chance that they'll have me, I need to know."


	29. Chapter 29

Thanks for your reviews – I'm guessing you all want the next chapter. It's sort of the final one, and then there will be one more, which is basically an epilogue. I know some of you don't want it to end, but I always meant to leave it at this point, after Jack learned to relinquish control of his life, and Kate regained control over hers…

Some of you asked about other stories – I have two ideas I'm trying to decide between at the moment. One, as I mentioned, is an island mythology story, involving the pregnant women arc, and Juliet's manipulation of Jack through Kate; the other is a little weirder, involving Jack, Sawyer and a doorbell baby. I've always thought that if Kate was out of the picture, they could be friends, so I thought the idea of them raising her daughter together would be interesting, since she would be like this little piece of Kate they could share. (They would both know that Jack was her biological father, but between his job, his father, and his abandonment issues, he would be having trouble coping without Kate, which is where Sawyer comes in…) Let me know if you like either of those, and I'll keep thinking, but for some reason, I just can't come up with anything that doesn't feature a baby!

I don't even get the season finale yet and I'm excited! I do get "The Man From Tallassee", though, which is almost as good...

* * *

Chapter 29. Moving Forward 

While she was still prone to bursts of melancholy, sitting on the sofa and staring, glassy-eyed, it warmed Jack's heart to see how quickly Kate recovered from the loss of her baby now that she had a new goal to focus on. He hated seeing her as sad and defeated as she'd looked in the first few days after leaving the clinic, so when she convinced him that she was serious about getting into Columbia, he'd been willing to do whatever it took to make sure that it happened.

Even appeal to his father.

Christian had known the dean back when they were both students there, so with his help, Jack had been able to arrange a meeting between him and Kate. He was surprised that his father wanted to help her, but he supposed that now that he knew how serious they were about each other, he wasn't going to stand in the way of her becoming respectable. She might have come from a white trash background, but if she went to Columbia, she couldn't embarrass the Shephards in front of their colleges and friends. It wasn't all that pragmatic, though, he hoped; he liked to think that everything else aside, his father wanted to support him, because he didn't really seem to hate Kate, especially once he'd learned that she was no longer pregnant. He'd never said as much to his face, but Jack could tell that he saw her terminating the pregnancy as the best possible outcome under the circumstances.

Sometimes, when he saw how excited Kate was about going to college, he almost believed it himself, though he couldn't seem to keep himself from crossing off the days in his head, counting down to what would have been her due date. They never talked about it, but during those quiet, pensive moments, he could tell that she was doing the same thing.

The meeting was tough for her, forcing her to relate incidents from her past that she had trouble sharing even with him, but at the end of it, she was rewarded with the dean's approval to sit for the scholarship exam once she had her high school certificate.

She spent the rest of the summer writing letters and essays and doing make up work and exams in between shifts at the diner (to fill the time they spent apart, Jack caught up of the readings he'd missed since meeting her), but finally, a few days before the academic year started again, she was allowed to graduate. It was too late for her to apply for college by then, but after taking a look at her results, which rivalled even Jack's, the dean offered her a place at Columbia during the next intake.

And a scholarship.

Jack had seen her happy before, though there was always a shadow of something else in her mood, but he'd never seen her float on the air the way she did after opening the dean's letter. She actually shrieked when he read it to her (she was too nervous to do it herself), throwing her arms around him and dancing them around the room until she realised how ridiculous she was being and stopped.

She said it was the best day of her life, after meeting him, of course.

For the next six months she stayed at the diner, saving whatever money she could so that they wouldn't have to give up their place, but she no longer seemed to hate waitressing as much as she had now that the end was in sight. It was almost like she was a different person, vivacious and beautiful in her joy, so unlike the sad bitter girl who had abused him the day he went there to meet Marc. She laughed all the time now, and climbed trees in Central Park, and even his best friend was jealous, because for all his womanising, he still hadn't met anyone who made him half as happy as she made Jack.

Six months after she joined him at Columbia, he moved on to med school, and after thumbing through one of his textbooks, and taking a couple of classes, she decided that she wanted to make psychology her major. Up until that point, she'd changed her mind almost weekly, flitting between education and ecology, or whatever else seemed to appeal to her at that moment, but this time it stuck.

A year on from Balthazar, and he still didn't know what that counsellor had said to her, or failed to say, but whatever it was, it seemed to have had a profound effect on her, because after she graduated, she took a job at a similar clinic, helping other women make the decision that she herself had struggled with. Sometimes she changed their minds, sometimes she didn't, but he knew that either way, she was happy to have made a difference in their lives. It still caused her pain to talk about her own experience, but whenever he asked her why she didn't just get a job as a therapist, which paid better, and wouldn't force her to relive her own emotional hell, she told him that she wished she'd known someone who understood what she was going through at the time, someone who knew about the guilt and the depression and the nightmares first hand.

Seeing how much his influence had changed her for the better, Jack was glad that he'd decided to break out of his old routine, especially because, in subtler ways, he knew, she'd changed him too. He was no longer such an "uptight ass", as Marc had once called him; his life had stopped being ordered on the day that he met Kate, but he was happy, and in love, and nothing else mattered.

He was so sure that she was the best thing that had ever, and would ever, happen to him, that just over a year after they'd met, when she was still only nineteen, and he was twenty-one, he'd asked her to marry him, and she'd agreed.

They were in California, visiting his parents, when the impulse came over him. It wasn't a special occasion: they were just walking along the Santa Monica pier one night, watching the surf, when he looked over at her, with the wind in her hair, and the lights dancing across her face, and realised that he couldn't imagine his life without her. He hadn't meant to say it, not yet, but when the words slipped out, and she asked him if he wanted to take them back, he realised that he didn't, so she laughed and said yes, and from that moment on, they were engaged.

They'd decided against eloping though, even though they could have if they'd wanted to (Las Vegas wasn't that far), secure in the commitment they'd made to each other, because they both knew that even without a piece of paper, it was real.

That was the second best day of Jack's life; the third for Kate, although later, when he gave her a cheap ring to seal their pact, she admitted that it beat getting into Columbia.

* * *

I know Columbia's probably unrealistic, but it makes a good ending! I don't know if you could really get permission to retake your exams, but she has an exceptionally good reason for dropping out… 


	30. Chapter 30

Yeah, grey's, you can assume their sex life got better…. ;)

* * *

Chapter 30. Five Years Later… 

"Dr. Shephard? Your wife is here," one of the nurses informed Jack with an encouraging smile, calling him out of his daydream. He hadn't been able to concentrate on his rounds, thinking about Kate, knowing that at any moment, he could be hearing those words. After just over six months of marriage, it still felt strange; they'd been engaged for so long before getting around to a wedding that he was used to hearing "fiancé" or "girlfriend", but he liked it, because it meant that she was finally, unquestionably his.

His thoughts were so full of Kate that he didn't even remember to stop and thank the nurse, hurrying to the lift in his lab coat, to the fourth floor, where he knew she would be waiting for him.

She was sitting up in bed, watching the doorway, her anxious expression softening into a grin when she saw him. "Look who finally decided to show up."

"I came as soon as I heard," he told her, slightly miffed at what he thought was a concealed barb as he leant down to kiss her in greeting.

"I meant your baby," she corrected him with a laugh when he pulled away, rubbing her belly through the stretched fabric of her hospital gown. "But it's just as well you put in an appearance if you ever want to get laid again."

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" he asked, laughing too as he shed his coat, dropping it onto the chair.

"No." As if to highlight her point, she winced at a contraction, gritting her teeth. "I'm not doing this for my health."

"How's it all going?" he asked, climbing up onto the mattress beside her when she relaxed, sinking back against the top of the bed.

"My water's broken, the contractions are about two and a half minutes apart, and from what Lisa – sorry, _Dr. Newman_ – said when she left me, I'm about eight centimetres dilated." She gave him a nervous smile. "Won't be long now. Do I get a gold star?"

He kissed her again, letting his hand come to rest over hers on her stomach. He'd had more than seven months to get used to the idea, and yet he still couldn't believe that they were having a baby, their baby. He was going to be a dad, for real this time. "I'm just surprised you remembered all that."

"I am a surgeon's wife," she said proudly, beaming at him. "_Future_ surgeon's," she amended sheepishly when he gave her a look, "but that's just a technicality."

"A six year technicality," he reminded her, but he was smiling too. "I still have to get through the rest of my internship."

"Like I said, a technicality," she repeated, glancing over at the door as her obstetrician came in.

"I see you got my message, Jack," she said by way of greeting, coming over to check on Kate. "I spoke to your resident, and you're covered for the rest of the day."

"Good, 'cause I'm not leaving until I get to see little Cherubina or Thalaba," he said, looking over at Kate, causing her to laugh again in spite of her pain.

"Cherubina?" Dr. Newman repeated, raising an eyebrow. She knew about the game, and yet she always managed to look surprised.

"Those are his latest," Kate explained once she'd recovered from her next contraction. By Jack's count, they were less than two minutes apart now. "I think he got them from a book or something. I have a list of the names we're actually considering in my bag, and I can tell you, neither of them are on it." She turned back to him, giving him a warning look, but he could see the amusement in her eyes. "You are not, under any circumstances, naming the baby. I'm not going through all this so that you can have Thalaba Shephard, no matter how much you complain. You can have your own Thala_ba_." Her voice rose on the last syllable as she gripped his knee.

"In that case, maybe _you_ don't want to get laid ever again," he teased her affectionately, nuzzling her ear, but she just rolled her eyes, giving him a dubious look.

"That doesn't work when I'm in labour, Jack. At this point, I'd be happy if you never touched me again." But to show she wasn't serious, she smiled, squeezing his hand, her grip tightening to a vice as she bit down against another contraction.

"Please tell me I can start pushing," she begged the doctor, flopping back against the pillow when it was done. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

She was breathing so heavily now that it was a struggle to get the words out, beads of sweat breaking out across her hairline, tricking down into her eyes. Jack wiped them away gently with his palm, still ecstatic about meeting their child, but hating what she had to go through to get there. It was almost as if he could feel each contraction himself as his stomach constricted painfully watching her.

The corners of Dr. Newman's mouth twitched with amusement as she checked under

Kate's gown again. "You can, just as soon as we get you into delivery," she agreed. "You're not quite ten centimetres yet, but give it a few minutes and you'll be ready to go."

"Finally," Kate huffed, running her free hand over her damp hair. "I thought I was going to have to smoke the little bastard out."

Laughing, the doctor left the room, returning with another intern and a couple of nurses in tow. Jack swallowed his fear, focusing on Kate as they moved her onto a gurney, and into the delivery room, and twenty harrowing minutes later, he was finally able to relax as the air erupted with their baby's first cries.

"It's a boy," Dr. Newman told them with a grin as Kate collapsed back against him, exhausted, watching as the doctor cut the cord, and took the baby away to clear his nose and throat.

"Did you hear that? We have a son," he repeated, kissing her forehead, and beaming at her, frowning slightly when her shoulders began to shake with silent tears.

She mumbled something incomprehensible, the only word of which he could make out was "raincheck", and he realised why she was crying. She was thinking of the other baby, the one she'd aborted; the one who would now be four years old. Balthazar, they'd called him, in honour of the game he'd invented to cheer her up while she was pregnant. Aside from Jack's father, they were still the only ones who knew. She hadn't even told her obstetrician.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, bringing the back of her hand up to his lips.

She took a deep breath, seeming to draw strength from him, like she had during the birth. "Yeah, I just… it still hurts, you know?" she whispered, tracking their son's progress with her eyes. "It's been five years and it still hurts."

"I know, but it'll get better," he told her, pushing the damp curls off of her face, and kissing her again. "This baby is going to make everything better, because you're going to give him all the love you couldn't give our other son." While the baby had never really been his, he'd never stopped thinking of himself as his father; it had hurt for him too, more than he knew how to express, until the day, seven months ago, that she'd told him that she was pregnant again. They hadn't been trying for another baby; he still hadn't quite finished medical school; but this time, there hadn't been any question of whether or not they would keep it.

"You really think so?" she asked hopefully, and he nodded, smiling and squeezing her hand as Dr. Newman brought their son back.

"I really think so. You're going to be an amazing mother, Kate. He doesn't know how lucky he is."

"Here he is, the man of the hour," the doctor said with a smile when she reached them, holding the baby up so that they could both see him, before offering him to Kate.

He stopped wailing as soon he heard his mother's voice, babbling nonsense at him as he looked up at her through wide indigo eyes. She burst into fresh tears as the doctor eased him into her arms, but this time, Jack knew she wasn't crying because she was sad.

"See?" he said, reaching down to touch one of the baby's hands. "You love him already."

"I've loved him ever since that stick turned pink, and I knew I was pregnant again," she confessed with a teary smile, kissing the dark fuzz on his scalp. "I don't know what I would have done if you didn't want him. It's just… different… this time. He's different. I can't imagine ever feeling that way about him."

"He's us – ours," Jack supplied, looking down at their son in awe, and she nodded, as if this somehow covered everything that she was trying to say. "Our little Thalaba."

"Harrison," she amended seriously.

"That's what we're calling him?" Jack asked, surprised at how decisive she sounded; she would never show him her list, or share anything that was on it, in spite of her determination to name their child. Until that moment, he had begun to doubt its existence.

"That's what we're calling him."

"Harrison Shephard," he repeated experimentally, deciding that he liked it. It was strong and noble, and still interesting, the kind of name he thought a great man should have. He wondered if that was why she'd picked it.

"Harry for short."

"That's cute." He kissed her cheek as she leant back against him, sighing and closing her eyes. "You did good today."

"No, _we_ did good."

* * *

There. I hope that makes up for the fact that I really don't think I can do a sequel. I will, however, get to work on one (or both!) of my new ideas, and post again as soon as my modem stops playing up. I have seen that movie by the way Amanda, which is sort of where I got the idea. If I do that one, Kate will be in it eventually (like she could stay away from her family for long, even if she thought it was for the best!), just to shake things up, and she'll probably also appear in flashbacks. Jack won't see her when she drops the baby off, though, just to make things more confusing and painful!

I'm glad you're all happy with the ending. I thought it worked well. Thank you all so much your reviews and encouragement, and I guess I'll see you next time!


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